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 Mauritius and from New York.
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 Toronto and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Fela Kuti to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soulsonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Roy Ayers,
Slick Rick,
Eurythmics,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Country Teasers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Slave,
Rekid,
Mary Jane Girls,
Skaos,
Brothers Johnson,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eddi Front,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jawbox,
The American Breed,
Yaz,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sam Rivers,
Bob Dylan,
Au Pairs,
Soul II Soul,
The Move,
Swans,
Faraquet,
The Angels of Light,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Kinks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Procol Harum,
The Fortunes,
Radiopuhelimet,
Robert Hood,
Funkadelic,
Deadbeat,
Sun Ra,
The Cramps,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bill Near,
Black Sheep,
Sex Pistols,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Black Bananas,
Radio Birdman,
Fear,
Bad Manners,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Crime,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Althea and Donna,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jerry's Kids,
Lalann,
The Dead C,
Spandau Ballet,
Young Marble Giants,
Simply Red,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.