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 Netherlands and from Manchester.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Henry Cow to the disco 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mighty Diamonds 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Gap Band,
Mantronix,
Erykah Badu,
The Monks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lower 48,
The Trojans,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Arab on Radar,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Connie Case,
Flash Fearless,
Agitation Free,
Marmalade,
Simply Red,
Au Pairs,
Blossom Toes,
The Divine Comedy,
cv313,
Skaos,
Pantaleimon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Wasted Youth,
Roxy Music,
Warsaw,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Slackers,
Section 25,
Shuggie Otis,
Colin Newman,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Birthday Party,
Monolake,
Gregory Isaacs,
Harry Pussy,
The Grass Roots,
The Residents,
The Dead C,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sound Behaviour,
The Slits,
Ultravox,
Joyce Sims,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Neil Young,
Cymande,
Buzzcocks,
Lucky Dragons,
Ralphi Rosario,
Nirvana,
Nik Kershaw,
La Düsseldorf,
Tubeway Army,
Bang On A Can,
Sarah Menescal,
Minor Threat,
the Normal,
The Buckinghams,
Swans,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.