Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Swaziland and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Sonics to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Litter. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Deadbeat,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Colin Newman,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
48th St. Collective,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Star Department,
Loose Ends,
Mad Mike,
Roy Ayers,
Rekid,
Massinfluence,
Grandmaster Flash,
Faust,
Pere Ubu,
The Remains,
Tres Demented,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Funky Four + One,
Max Romeo,
Royal Trux,
Bluetip,
Public Enemy,
the Human League,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Peter & Gordon,
Radio Birdman,
Jacques Brel,
The United States of America,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lou Christie,
Sugar Minott,
Charles Mingus,
Monolake,
Drexciya,
Magma,
Joe Finger,
Letta Mbulu,
Marvin Gaye,
The Velvet Underground,
June of 44,
Ken Boothe,
Sarah Menescal,
Minnie Riperton,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Wolf Eyes,
The Real Kids,
Harry Pussy,
Grauzone,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gang of Four,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Monks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Alarm Clocks,
D'Angelo,
Make Up,
Rotary Connection,
Don Cherry,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.