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 Slovakia and from Cairo.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Black Dice to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
Excepter,
Sex Pistols,
Goldenarms,
Ken Boothe,
Pierre Henry,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Popol Vuh,
Drexciya,
Harmonia,
Avey Tare,
The Trojans,
Faraquet,
Pharoah Sanders,
Black Sheep,
Bronski Beat,
Young Marble Giants,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Birthday Party,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Patti Smith,
Quadrant,
a-ha,
The Fuzztones,
The Zeros,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Alison Limerick,
Index,
The Last Poets,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gregory Isaacs,
PIL,
F. McDonald,
Gang of Four,
Hot Snakes,
Tres Demented,
Brothers Johnson,
Curtis Mayfield,
Minnie Riperton,
Gastr Del Sol,
K-Klass,
Radiopuhelimet,
Man Parrish,
Mad Mike,
Marmalade,
Johnny Clarke,
Siglo XX,
In Retrospect,
Amon Düül,
The Modern Lovers,
Lyres,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Susan Cadogan,
Big Daddy Kane,
Nirvana,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Chris Corsano,
The Busters,
Ten City,
Erasure,
AZ,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.