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 South Sudan and from Lyon.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 organ 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 Con Funk Shun to the electroclash 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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Bluetip,
Goldenarms,
Buzzcocks,
Camouflage,
Skarface,
Arthur Verocai,
Pole,
Dennis Brown,
Guru Guru,
Gil Scott Heron,
Aaron Thompson,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Toni Rubio,
Mission of Burma,
Scott Walker,
Thompson Twins,
Faraquet,
John Lydon,
The Doobie Brothers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jandek,
Alphaville,
The Gladiators,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marc Almond,
Gregory Isaacs,
Tomorrow,
Todd Terry,
MDC,
Half Japanese,
Al Stewart,
a-ha,
Lucky Dragons,
Supertramp,
Bobby Womack,
The Real Kids,
Dead Boys,
Wasted Youth,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
U.S. Maple,
X-101,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sugar Minott,
The Gun Club,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ice-T,
Girls At Our Best!,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
KRS-One,
Eli Mardock,
Aural Exciters,
The Sonics,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
T.S.O.L.,
Ronnie Foster,
Index,
The Music Machine,
Throbbing Gristle,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.