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 Malawi and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bologna.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Eli Mardock,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mandrill,
Faraquet,
T. Rex,
Amazonics,
LL Cool J,
Wings,
Scan 7,
Kenny Larkin,
Soul II Soul,
Hardrive,
Robert Hood,
The Birthday Party,
Duran Duran,
Soulsonic Force,
Chrome,
Minutemen,
the Swans,
Chris Corsano,
Terry Callier,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Amon Düül,
Archie Shepp,
Black Bananas,
The Gap Band,
Lou Reed,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Red Krayola,
Grey Daturas,
Ronan,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rakim,
Zapp,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Doors,
David Bowie,
Audionom,
Sugar Minott,
Skarface,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Desert Stars,
Rufus Thomas,
K-Klass,
The Cramps,
Alison Limerick,
Television Personalities,
Public Enemy,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Flesh Eaters,
Symarip,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Banda Bassotti,
Sam Rivers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Q and Not U,
Quantec,
The Dirtbombs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.