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 Guyana and from Delhi.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Crispy Ambulance to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sandy B,
Adolescents,
Pussy Galore,
Stiv Bators,
the Soft Cell,
DNA,
Funky Four + One,
E-Dancer,
Kas Product,
Unrelated Segments,
Malaria!,
Vainqueur,
Judy Mowatt,
The Toasters,
Ponytail,
Wolf Eyes,
Mantronix,
Mars,
Don Cherry,
the Germs,
Arab on Radar,
Simply Red,
Albert Ayler,
Joe Smooth,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Nils Olav,
Sun City Girls,
Scott Walker,
L. Decosne,
Marmalade,
Archie Shepp,
Howard Jones,
The Alarm Clocks,
Half Japanese,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Last Poets,
Y Pants,
Outsiders,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Joy Division,
Ash Ra Tempel,
James Chance & The Contortions,
John Cale,
Alphaville,
Swans,
10cc,
Barbara Tucker,
Warsaw,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Black Pus,
David McCallum,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Saccharine Trust,
Ralphi Rosario,
Oblivians,
Radiopuhelimet,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic, Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic, Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic, Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic.
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.