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 Manila.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 arpeggiator 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Althea and Donna,
The Slackers,
Gichy Dan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sparks,
Japan,
Sonny Sharrock,
Todd Rundgren,
The American Breed,
The Wake,
Rufus Thomas,
Fad Gadget,
Deepchord,
Average White Band,
The Dead C,
Smog,
Sonic Youth,
Crispian St. Peters,
Patti Smith,
Jawbox,
The Associates,
Pylon,
Harmonia,
David Bowie,
Minny Pops,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Marine Girls,
Wasted Youth,
Television,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Slits,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Saccharine Trust,
Icehouse,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Yusef Lateef,
John Holt,
The United States of America,
Eve St. Jones,
U.S. Maple,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Selecter,
UT,
Bauhaus,
Inner City,
John Coltrane,
Big Daddy Kane,
Accadde A,
KRS-One,
The Blues Magoos,
Kevin Saunderson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sun City Girls,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kayak,
The Monks,
DJ Style,
Tropical Tobacco,
Electric Prunes,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.