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 Tunisia 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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the snare 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 Royal Trux to the funk 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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter 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?
The Move,
The Toasters,
Alphaville,
Eurythmics,
Supertramp,
Pulsallama,
Popol Vuh,
Make Up,
Hoover,
Henry Cow,
Surgeon,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Birthday Party,
Amon Düül,
Chris Corsano,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Roger Hodgson,
Metal Thangz,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ornette Coleman,
Lou Reed,
The J.B.'s,
Camberwell Now,
Al Stewart,
Janne Schatter,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Wally Richardson,
Quando Quango,
The Human League,
Mr. Review,
The Standells,
The Pop Group,
Smog,
Brothers Johnson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Half Japanese,
The Alarm Clocks,
Dead Boys,
Sexual Harrassment,
Symarip,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Newcleus,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Gladiators,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Camouflage,
The Young Rascals,
Bobby Byrd,
Kevin Saunderson,
Graham Central Station,
Tomorrow,
Bizarre Inc.,
Tubeway Army,
Gichy Dan,
Rakim,
The Red Krayola,
The Dead C,
Rites of Spring,
Alison Limerick,
Quantec,
Gang Starr,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.