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 Syria and from Milan.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 UT to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Trumans Water. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pharoah Sanders,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gastr Del Sol,
Loose Ends,
Grandmaster Flash,
Wasted Youth,
The Fortunes,
Lakeside,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Prince Buster,
Scan 7,
Mark Hollis,
Judy Mowatt,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
a-ha,
The Names,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Wake,
Tommy Roe,
Harmonia,
Smog,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Grauzone,
The Barracudas,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Yazoo,
John Foxx,
Parry Music,
Joe Smooth,
Colin Newman,
Moss Icon,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Marvin Gaye,
The Busters,
Pylon,
The Gories,
the Soft Cell,
The Modern Lovers,
Moby Grape,
Archie Shepp,
Agitation Free,
Yaz,
Aswad,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Severed Heads,
Au Pairs,
Buzzcocks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The J.B.'s,
The Selecter,
Sarah Menescal,
Neu!,
The Remains,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.