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 Burundi and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bremen.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every La Düsseldorf record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aaron Thompson,
Kerrie Biddell,
Cal Tjader,
Gastr Del Sol,
Aswad,
The Dead C,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Fall,
Rod Modell,
Audionom,
Camouflage,
Dual Sessions,
Groovy Waters,
The Grass Roots,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ken Boothe,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bizarre Inc.,
Scion,
Buzzcocks,
Half Japanese,
Amazonics,
Hasil Adkins,
8 Eyed Spy,
Livin' Joy,
Eurythmics,
Tomorrow,
Matthew Halsall,
Eve St. Jones,
Sun Ra,
Nirvana,
Monks,
The Barracudas,
Scrapy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jacques Brel,
DNA,
The Buckinghams,
The Doors,
Jerry's Kids,
Absolute Body Control,
The Durutti Column,
Prince Buster,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sam Rivers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ronan,
H. Thieme,
The New Christs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Fugs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Marcia Griffiths,
Severed Heads,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Black Dice,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Accadde A,
Stetsasonic,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.