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 Comoros and from Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 rhodes 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 June of 44 to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
JFA,
Barbara Tucker,
David Bowie,
The Fire Engines,
The Dirtbombs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Television,
Colin Newman,
Soft Machine,
The Mummies,
The Zeros,
Niagra,
The Monks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Los Fastidios,
John Cale,
June of 44,
R.M.O.,
Eden Ahbez,
the Slits,
Todd Terry,
The Skatalites,
Simply Red,
K-Klass,
Negative Approach,
Goldenarms,
Japan,
La Düsseldorf,
Babytalk,
Thompson Twins,
Pet Shop Boys,
Howard Jones,
AZ,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mo-Dettes,
Sonic Youth,
Ronan,
Peter & Gordon,
Sugar Minott,
Vainqueur,
Excepter,
The Gladiators,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Malaria!,
Rosa Yemen,
Bootsy Collins,
Rapeman,
The Barracudas,
Symarip,
Underground Resistance,
The Remains,
Sister Nancy,
Fear,
Oblivians,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bush Tetras,
The Sound,
Von Mondo,
Arthur Verocai,
Wire,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.