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 Kazakhstan and from Bologna.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 clarinet 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 T. Rex to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erasure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare 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 Real Kids,
AZ,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Fire Engines,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Invisible,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jawbox,
Byron Stingily,
The Techniques,
John Holt,
Tres Demented,
Moss Icon,
Freddie Wadling,
The Doors,
Dorothy Ashby,
Thee Headcoats,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Tubeway Army,
Fat Boys,
Marmalade,
KRS-One,
Ultimate Spinach,
Minutemen,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Aswad,
Scientists,
John Lydon,
These Immortal Souls,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Deakin,
The Young Rascals,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
X-102,
The Durutti Column,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
JFA,
The Shadows of Knight,
Tom Boy,
Newcleus,
Deadbeat,
T. Rex,
Lalann,
Jeru the Damaja,
Harry Pussy,
John Cale,
The Seeds,
Oblivians,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Standells,
Skarface,
Patti Smith,
Black Sheep,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Electric Prunes,
PIL,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.