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 Honduras and from Jakarta.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Fortunes to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
Jawbox,
Pet Shop Boys,
Amazonics,
Cameo,
David Axelrod,
Rufus Thomas,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rekid,
Cheater Slicks,
The Black Dice,
Royal Trux,
Toni Rubio,
Yusef Lateef,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kaleidoscope,
Eric Dolphy,
Erykah Badu,
Ponytail,
the Fania All-Stars,
Wire,
Donny Hathaway,
Drive Like Jehu,
Juan Atkins,
The Angels of Light,
T.S.O.L.,
The Sonics,
Magma,
Public Enemy,
Livin' Joy,
Oblivians,
Sonic Youth,
The J.B.'s,
Roy Ayers,
Deakin,
Prince Buster,
Von Mondo,
The Busters,
The Buckinghams,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Golliwogs,
Cecil Taylor,
Wally Richardson,
The Tremeloes,
Jeff Lynne,
Alison Limerick,
The Neon Judgement,
Joy Division,
Boz Scaggs,
Joey Negro,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Eve St. Jones,
Aural Exciters,
Crooked Eye,
June Days,
Fugazi,
Symarip,
Brothers Johnson,
Radiohead,
Tommy Roe,
Andrew Hill,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.