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 Angola and from Accra.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 rhodes 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grauzone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
8 Eyed Spy,
Organ,
June of 44,
Laurel Aitken,
Traffic Nightmare,
Visage,
Urselle,
Quantec,
Donny Hathaway,
B.T. Express,
Lucky Dragons,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Sonics,
Sarah Menescal,
Au Pairs,
Kayak,
Amazonics,
Bob Dylan,
Supertramp,
AZ,
James White and The Blacks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Black Sheep,
Inner City,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Danielle Patucci,
The Raincoats,
Ultimate Spinach,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Association,
Monolake,
Anakelly,
Y Pants,
The Gap Band,
Suicide,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Juan Atkins,
Malaria!,
The Skatalites,
Main Source,
The Gladiators,
China Crisis,
Desert Stars,
Kerri Chandler,
Sandy B,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Toasters,
Camberwell Now,
Mark Hollis,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Electric Prunes,
The Cramps,
Sunsets and Hearts,
DNA,
The Star Department,
Brick,
Soft Cell,
Absolute Body Control,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Junior Murvin,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.