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 Cameroon and from Accra.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Michael McDonald 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 Sex Pistols to the crunk 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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Urselle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Yaz,
Rites of Spring,
Average White Band,
The Barracudas,
U.S. Maple,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Mr. Review,
Camouflage,
Guru Guru,
Livin' Joy,
Babytalk,
The Monochrome Set,
Scientists,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jeru the Damaja,
Buzzcocks,
Youth Brigade,
Derrick May,
Eric Copeland,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Index,
The Victims,
Electric Prunes,
The Misunderstood,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Hot Snakes,
The Fire Engines,
The Selecter,
Hashim,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Tom Boy,
Crispian St. Peters,
Brass Construction,
Groovy Waters,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Country Teasers,
Chris Corsano,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eden Ahbez,
The Beau Brummels,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sam Rivers,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Technova,
Graham Central Station,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gregory Isaacs,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ken Boothe,
The Raincoats,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gong,
Zapp,
David McCallum,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rod Modell,
X-101,
Silicon Teens,
Arab on Radar,
The Cure,
Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix.
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.