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 Morocco and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the disco 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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crooked Eye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
The Sonics,
Massinfluence,
Depeche Mode,
Dark Day,
Crooked Eye,
The Invisible,
X-102,
The Young Rascals,
Roger Hodgson,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Crime,
8 Eyed Spy,
Duran Duran,
Outsiders,
Fugazi,
Eric Dolphy,
Dead Boys,
Can,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Circle Jerks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Skaos,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Soul Sonic Force,
John Lydon,
Y Pants,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Smiths,
Popol Vuh,
Bob Dylan,
Marine Girls,
Traffic Nightmare,
Drexciya,
Michelle Simonal,
Bauhaus,
The Happenings,
Henry Cow,
Buzzcocks,
Warsaw,
Scott Walker,
R.M.O.,
Quando Quango,
Nick Fraelich,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Amon Düül,
Laurel Aitken,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Joy Division,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Last Poets,
Byron Stingily,
Loose Ends,
Electric Prunes,
Soft Machine,
In Retrospect,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Cramps,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.