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 Montenegro 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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Crocodile.
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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
the Sonics,
Slick Rick,
La Düsseldorf,
The Invisible,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Moss Icon,
Bob Dylan,
Heaven 17,
Barbara Tucker,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Joy Division,
Marine Girls,
Amazonics,
Metal Thangz,
Sixth Finger,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bang On A Can,
Bauhaus,
Barrington Levy,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Al Stewart,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Standells,
Todd Terry,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Skatalites,
Reuben Wilson,
Circle Jerks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wolf Eyes,
Howard Jones,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Youth Brigade,
Deepchord,
The Monks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sällskapet,
Ultra Naté,
Chris Corsano,
Gang Starr,
Soul Sonic Force,
Alphaville,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Scrapy,
Lindisfarne,
Lakeside,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Swell Maps,
Tears for Fears,
Godley & Creme,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Fortunes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Agent Orange,
Vladislav Delay,
Lungfish,
Minny Pops,
The Barracudas,
Gil Scott Heron,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.