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 Ireland and from Seoul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 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 Sixth Finger to the electroclash 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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
Harry Pussy,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Busters,
The Barracudas,
Arcadia,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sex Pistols,
Ultra Naté,
Kas Product,
Joe Finger,
Neu!,
The Beau Brummels,
Josef K,
The Martian,
The Invisible,
Brand Nubian,
ABBA,
Arab on Radar,
Negative Approach,
June Days,
The Gun Club,
Wire,
H. Thieme,
Minnie Riperton,
The Durutti Column,
Bizarre Inc.,
Max Romeo,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
This Heat,
Bang On A Can,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
KRS-One,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Massinfluence,
Das Ding,
Franke,
Barrington Levy,
Peter and Kerry,
Interpol,
Black Sheep,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Tommy Roe,
Al Stewart,
Jerry's Kids,
The Wake,
Pere Ubu,
Henry Cow,
Judy Mowatt,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Byron Stingily,
Skriet,
Fluxion,
Lindisfarne,
The Residents,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Magazine,
Ice-T,
Sandy B,
Silicon Teens,
Ornette Coleman,
Soft Machine,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.