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 Cameroon and from Spokane.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Paris.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Pulsallama to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Carl Craig,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Misunderstood,
Neil Young,
Fluxion,
Newcleus,
Minor Threat,
Electric Prunes,
Derrick May,
Todd Terry,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Spandau Ballet,
This Heat,
Terrestrial Tones,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Buckinghams,
Amon Düül II,
Glambeats Corp.,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rakim,
Minnie Riperton,
John Lydon,
Aaron Thompson,
Quantec,
World's Most,
John Foxx,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Alton Ellis,
Toni Rubio,
Gang Starr,
Flash Fearless,
Peter & Gordon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bill Wells,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fatback Band,
Panda Bear,
Lightning Bolt,
Slick Rick,
The Gladiators,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Agent Orange,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Scion,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Five Americans,
Minny Pops,
Average White Band,
Grauzone,
Little Man,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Scott Walker,
Ken Boothe,
R.M.O.,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rites of Spring,
The Busters,
Silicon Teens,
Popol Vuh,
Spoonie Gee,
The Toasters,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.