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 Norway 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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 Echo & the Bunnymen to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson 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 an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
The Divine Comedy,
Porter Ricks,
The Residents,
Franke,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Smiths,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fela Kuti,
Ponytail,
The Flesh Eaters,
Joyce Sims,
Lalann,
John Coltrane,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sällskapet,
World's Most,
Tommy Roe,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
DJ Sneak,
Archie Shepp,
Mars,
Maurizio,
K-Klass,
Ralphi Rosario,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kevin Saunderson,
Robert Görl,
Zero Boys,
Spoonie Gee,
Blancmange,
Angry Samoans,
Bronski Beat,
The Black Dice,
the Normal,
Donald Byrd,
Nico,
Talk Talk,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Severed Heads,
Pussy Galore,
Bobby Womack,
Gregory Isaacs,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Audionom,
Robert Hood,
Basic Channel,
Mission of Burma,
The Busters,
Soulsonic Force,
Cheater Slicks,
Fatback Band,
The J.B.'s,
Drexciya,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bobby Byrd,
the Swans,
Aswad,
Hoover,
Derrick May,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.