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 Guatemala and from Manila.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Spandau Ballet to the techno 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 Martian. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boredoms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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 Men They Couldn't Hang,
Althea and Donna,
Monks,
Absolute Body Control,
Boz Scaggs,
Lalann,
Sixth Finger,
Rapeman,
X-Ray Spex,
Loose Ends,
Heaven 17,
The Fugs,
Quando Quango,
Brand Nubian,
Black Moon,
Bush Tetras,
Robert Wyatt,
The Wake,
Kayak,
Nils Olav,
Fad Gadget,
Tom Boy,
ABC,
Buzzcocks,
The Smoke,
Henry Cow,
Second Layer,
Glenn Branca,
Supertramp,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Juan Atkins,
The Five Americans,
Scan 7,
John Coltrane,
Jeru the Damaja,
David Axelrod,
The Fire Engines,
Ronan,
Clear Light,
The Knickerbockers,
Dawn Penn,
Agitation Free,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Darondo,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Sandy B,
Joe Finger,
The Vogues,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Deadbeat,
Soul II Soul,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Livin' Joy,
Peter & Gordon,
Organ,
Judy Mowatt,
a-ha,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Yaz,
Guru Guru,
Derrick May,
Can,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.