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 Mauritania and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 oboe 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
The Count Five,
Roy Ayers,
The Martian,
Terry Callier,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Red Krayola,
Adolescents,
Judy Mowatt,
Henry Cow,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minor Threat,
Bluetip,
Joe Finger,
the Germs,
Harmonia,
Minnie Riperton,
John Lydon,
One Last Wish,
The Smiths,
Echospace,
Colin Newman,
Scan 7,
Wasted Youth,
The Black Dice,
the Normal,
Godley & Creme,
Jeff Lynne,
Rhythm & Sound,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kaleidoscope,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
ABBA,
Howard Jones,
The Trojans,
Vainqueur,
Yazoo,
The Mummies,
Cal Tjader,
Soulsonic Force,
Schoolly D,
the Swans,
Jacob Miller,
Franke,
Crime,
Mad Mike,
Curtis Mayfield,
Maleditus Sound,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bronski Beat,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Donald Byrd,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Zeros,
Lyres,
The Moleskins,
Rufus Thomas,
Freddie Wadling,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.