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 United Kingdom and from Glasgow.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 chamberlin 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the grime 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 Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a H. Thieme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Patti Smith,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Mojo Men,
Laurel Aitken,
La Düsseldorf,
Crispian St. Peters,
ABC,
Popol Vuh,
Second Layer,
Dave Gahan,
Sugar Minott,
Fatback Band,
Young Marble Giants,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Brick,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lucky Dragons,
Slave,
Audionom,
Motorama,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Germs,
Organ,
Scientists,
The Black Dice,
Johnny Clarke,
Wolf Eyes,
Icehouse,
Rotary Connection,
Wings,
Lungfish,
AZ,
Masters at Work,
Jeff Lynne,
PIL,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Golliwogs,
the Slits,
The New Christs,
Main Source,
Buzzcocks,
Alison Limerick,
Aaron Thompson,
Outsiders,
Andrew Hill,
James Chance & The Contortions,
John Lydon,
Gichy Dan,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Tremeloes,
the Swans,
X-Ray Spex,
The Slits,
Lakeside,
This Heat,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Quando Quango,
The Fortunes,
The Birthday Party,
Tears for Fears,
Blake Baxter,
David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod.
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.