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 Thailand and from Johannesburg.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the marimba 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 the Human League to the funk 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 The J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All The Wake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Loose Ends record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
Saccharine Trust,
Simply Red,
Monolake,
Tres Demented,
Can,
Ornette Coleman,
Aloha Tigers,
Livin' Joy,
the Sonics,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jeff Mills,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Gap Band,
These Immortal Souls,
Alton Ellis,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Hashim,
Porter Ricks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Martian,
The Kinks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jacques Brel,
The Busters,
Barry Ungar,
Donny Hathaway,
Marvin Gaye,
Basic Channel,
Wally Richardson,
Michelle Simonal,
Sister Nancy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Aural Exciters,
Interpol,
Mo-Dettes,
Guru Guru,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Swans,
Outsiders,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
June Days,
The Mojo Men,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Liliput,
Make Up,
Dark Day,
Sixth Finger,
Second Layer,
The United States of America,
the Normal,
The Last Poets,
Silicon Teens,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
New Order,
Urselle,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Black Sheep,
Sonic Youth,
Dual Sessions,
Flipper,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.