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 Algeria and from Toronto.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Holger Czukay 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 Depeche Mode 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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Main Source record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Sex Pistols,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Black Sheep,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Carl Craig,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
X-Ray Spex,
David Axelrod,
Thee Headcoats,
The Pop Group,
Ossler,
Althea and Donna,
Soft Cell,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bronski Beat,
The Neon Judgement,
MC5,
The Cramps,
Michelle Simonal,
PIL,
Eden Ahbez,
Funkadelic,
Deadbeat,
Banda Bassotti,
Royal Trux,
Freddie Wadling,
Little Man,
Judy Mowatt,
The Associates,
David Bowie,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Shuggie Otis,
Donald Byrd,
The Remains,
Newcleus,
Sandy B,
Maleditus Sound,
Second Layer,
Arcadia,
The Fuzztones,
Reuben Wilson,
Bobby Womack,
Jacob Miller,
Drive Like Jehu,
Half Japanese,
Aloha Tigers,
Matthew Halsall,
A Flock of Seagulls,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Anakelly,
The Leaves,
Ultravox,
H. Thieme,
Quadrant,
Gichy Dan,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Iggy Pop,
Harry Pussy,
Alton Ellis,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.