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 Delhi.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ronnie Foster to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Unrelated Segments tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
Flash Fearless,
Slave,
Hasil Adkins,
Eli Mardock,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Grey Daturas,
Fugazi,
The Mojo Men,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Khruangbin,
CMW,
Max Romeo,
The Index,
Man Parrish,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Outsiders,
Yaz,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Nils Olav,
Sex Pistols,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Charles Mingus,
8 Eyed Spy,
Moss Icon,
Smog,
Quando Quango,
cv313,
Girls At Our Best!,
New York Dolls,
Nico,
Boredoms,
The Blues Magoos,
The Fall,
The Doors,
Television Personalities,
Magma,
Country Teasers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Tremeloes,
The Young Rascals,
Al Stewart,
Blancmange,
Lalo Schifrin,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Swell Maps,
Brothers Johnson,
Susan Cadogan,
Arthur Verocai,
The Walker Brothers,
Procol Harum,
Wally Richardson,
The Trojans,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kurtis Blow,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bill Near,
Toni Rubio,
Sexual Harrassment,
Electric Prunes,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.