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 Albania and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 synthesizer 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 Erykah Badu to the crunk 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 The Selecter. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Cluster,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jeff Lynne,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
F. McDonald,
DJ Sneak,
Cybotron,
Matthew Halsall,
Jacob Miller,
Black Moon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Q and Not U,
Pere Ubu,
Gil Scott Heron,
Chrome,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Radiohead,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Donald Byrd,
Kurtis Blow,
Brothers Johnson,
Harmonia,
8 Eyed Spy,
Vainqueur,
JFA,
Heaven 17,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Toni Rubio,
Arab on Radar,
Michelle Simonal,
Tres Demented,
Judy Mowatt,
Radiopuhelimet,
Rotary Connection,
Juan Atkins,
Tubeway Army,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sight & Sound,
Sandy B,
The Gap Band,
Morten Harket,
Hardrive,
Pussy Galore,
kango's stein massive,
EPMD,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
T.S.O.L.,
Country Teasers,
Marvin Gaye,
The Black Dice,
Pole,
MDC,
Davy DMX,
Symarip,
The Cure,
Metal Thangz,
Aaron Thompson,
Terry Callier,
Scion,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.