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 Cape Verde and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Public Enemy to the disco 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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Fatback Band,
X-101,
The Smoke,
Warren Ellis,
Thompson Twins,
Rites of Spring,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Main Source,
Wire,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Dead Boys,
Blossom Toes,
Piero Umiliani,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Erasure,
Sun Ra,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lucky Dragons,
The J.B.'s,
The Alarm Clocks,
Nico,
Susan Cadogan,
Black Moon,
The Trojans,
Black Sheep,
Circle Jerks,
Pierre Henry,
Kerri Chandler,
Moby Grape,
Josef K,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Hot Snakes,
Joyce Sims,
The Leaves,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Deadbeat,
Kenny Larkin,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jawbox,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rotary Connection,
Mad Mike,
Khruangbin,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Victims,
the Normal,
Sight & Sound,
Urselle,
Gastr Del Sol,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sparks,
Unwound,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dorothy Ashby,
cv313,
The Doobie Brothers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Joensuu 1685,
Scion,
The Music Machine,
Marine Girls,
The Cramps,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.