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 Chad and from Jakarta.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Misunderstood to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
Susan Cadogan,
Sexual Harrassment,
La Düsseldorf,
The Five Americans,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
New Order,
AZ,
Derrick Morgan,
Blancmange,
Monks,
The Pop Group,
Visage,
The Durutti Column,
The Seeds,
Derrick May,
D'Angelo,
Maurizio,
Robert Wyatt,
Goldenarms,
The Velvet Underground,
48th St. Collective,
Kerri Chandler,
The Smoke,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Tears for Fears,
Pantytec,
Bluetip,
Index,
Rotary Connection,
The Mummies,
Jimmy McGriff,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Sonics,
Rufus Thomas,
Tim Buckley,
Eric Dolphy,
James White and The Blacks,
The Evens,
Eddi Front,
Marmalade,
Desert Stars,
Anthony Braxton,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Shadows of Knight,
These Immortal Souls,
Shuggie Otis,
Aloha Tigers,
Accadde A,
Joey Negro,
Roxy Music,
The Dave Clark Five,
Darondo,
Harry Pussy,
Babytalk,
Swans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Move,
Mary Jane Girls,
Little Man,
Bronski Beat,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.