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 Luxembourg and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 snare 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 Franke to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick Morgan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiopuhelimet,
EPMD,
Fatback Band,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ponytail,
Skaos,
Pere Ubu,
Scan 7,
Juan Atkins,
Smog,
Whodini,
Gang Starr,
48th St. Collective,
The Monks,
Maleditus Sound,
Zero Boys,
The Standells,
Jawbox,
The Young Rascals,
Dorothy Ashby,
Duran Duran,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lalo Schifrin,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Dirtbombs,
Moss Icon,
Laurel Aitken,
Faust,
Todd Rundgren,
Minny Pops,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Niagra,
Tom Boy,
Sugar Minott,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Kenny Larkin,
New York Dolls,
Ornette Coleman,
The Invisible,
Crime,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kevin Saunderson,
David McCallum,
ABBA,
OOIOO,
Q and Not U,
L. Decosne,
Althea and Donna,
Nico,
Wasted Youth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Iggy Pop,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Subhumans,
Thee Headcoats,
Susan Cadogan,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.