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 Ghana and from Lille.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Tom Verlaine 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 James White and The Blacks to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Oneida. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ossler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Morten Harket,
Cecil Taylor,
Basic Channel,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Moody Blues,
Gerry Rafferty,
Joey Negro,
Frankie Knuckles,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Absolute Body Control,
Lou Christie,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jeru the Damaja,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
U.S. Maple,
Main Source,
The Smoke,
Circle Jerks,
Hasil Adkins,
Sonic Youth,
Judy Mowatt,
The Mummies,
Scratch Acid,
Motorama,
The Modern Lovers,
Max Romeo,
Radiopuhelimet,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Donald Byrd,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lebanon Hanover,
Tommy Roe,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Wolf Eyes,
The Evens,
Outsiders,
Glenn Branca,
The Durutti Column,
PIL,
Von Mondo,
Shuggie Otis,
X-101,
Brothers Johnson,
Agitation Free,
Monks,
Scrapy,
Audionom,
Make Up,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Cramps,
The New Christs,
Japan,
the Sonics,
Deepchord,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sun Ra,
Magma,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sugar Minott,
Grauzone,
Thee Headcoats,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.