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 Luxembourg and from Copenhagen.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the techno 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 CMW. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oneida record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Camouflage,
The Dead C,
Marvin Gaye,
Slick Rick,
Throbbing Gristle,
Harmonia,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pantaleimon,
Blossom Toes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Stetsasonic,
Stockholm Monsters,
Godley & Creme,
The Moleskins,
The Blues Magoos,
Albert Ayler,
Crime,
The Gap Band,
Maurizio,
B.T. Express,
Johnny Clarke,
The Beau Brummels,
Eli Mardock,
Circle Jerks,
The Stooges,
The Fire Engines,
Nils Olav,
Sound Behaviour,
The Real Kids,
Soulsonic Force,
Grandmaster Flash,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Brothers Johnson,
Black Flag,
Tomorrow,
World's Most,
Bill Near,
June of 44,
The Smiths,
Jacob Miller,
The Neon Judgement,
Crispian St. Peters,
One Last Wish,
Outsiders,
Eurythmics,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Black Dice,
The Last Poets,
Wally Richardson,
Minor Threat,
Half Japanese,
Pylon,
Lucky Dragons,
China Crisis,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Franke,
Jerry's Kids,
Moss Icon,
Eden Ahbez,
Arthur Verocai,
Reagan Youth,
Man Parrish,
Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions.
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.