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 Netherlands and from Philadelphia.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Order 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Bronski Beat,
Ken Boothe,
Lakeside,
Malaria!,
a-ha,
Man Eating Sloth,
Maurizio,
The Fortunes,
Easy Going,
Girls At Our Best!,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
John Foxx,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ronan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gang Starr,
Desert Stars,
Ponytail,
Pantaleimon,
kango's stein massive,
Pole,
Amazonics,
The Residents,
Shoche,
Duran Duran,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ohio Players,
the Soft Cell,
Dawn Penn,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Cure,
PIL,
The Slackers,
Heaven 17,
48th St. Collective,
Gabor Szabo,
The Last Poets,
The Remains,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Camberwell Now,
Khruangbin,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Archie Shepp,
Tommy Roe,
The Index,
Ultravox,
Gerry Rafferty,
Byron Stingily,
K-Klass,
The Wake,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Drexciya,
Roy Ayers,
Bill Wells,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.