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 Brazil and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Agent Orange to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Shoche,
Bill Near,
In Retrospect,
Andrew Hill,
Stetsasonic,
The Trojans,
The Saints,
Erasure,
The Motions,
The Gap Band,
Adolescents,
The Litter,
Sarah Menescal,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sonny Sharrock,
Marvin Gaye,
Michelle Simonal,
Joe Finger,
X-102,
Spandau Ballet,
Yazoo,
The Count Five,
John Holt,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Freddie Wadling,
Qualms,
Scratch Acid,
Fear,
Wally Richardson,
Man Parrish,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Animal Collective,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gastr Del Sol,
Zero Boys,
Joyce Sims,
Royal Trux,
Hasil Adkins,
Oneida,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Walker Brothers,
Harry Pussy,
Bang On A Can,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Association,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Slits,
Cybotron,
Robert Hood,
Guru Guru,
The Detroit Cobras,
June Days,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Loose Ends,
The Beau Brummels,
Chrome,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.