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 Ethiopia and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 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 The Angels of Light to the grunge 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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Robert Görl tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool Moe Dee 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Vainqueur,
the Bar-Kays,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
the Slits,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Doors,
Heaven 17,
Gang Green,
New Order,
Pole,
The Walker Brothers,
Nirvana,
Byron Stingily,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Blossom Toes,
Alison Limerick,
The Motions,
Siglo XX,
Whodini,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kaleidoscope,
Bad Manners,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Television,
Camberwell Now,
Patti Smith,
Intrusion,
Gichy Dan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
June of 44,
Rufus Thomas,
Drexciya,
Darondo,
Bill Wells,
FM Einheit,
Fela Kuti,
Jeff Lynne,
The Kinks,
Tres Demented,
Soulsonic Force,
Agitation Free,
The Names,
Make Up,
The Slits,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Zeros,
Roger Hodgson,
Boredoms,
Wings,
Letta Mbulu,
Godley & Creme,
The Selecter,
Procol Harum,
The Stooges,
The Sound,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jawbox,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight.
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.