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 Somalia and from Mexico City.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Lou Reed 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 U.S. Maple to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
Cluster,
Brothers Johnson,
Kerri Chandler,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Happenings,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Spoonie Gee,
The Neon Judgement,
Fluxion,
Ronnie Foster,
Tears for Fears,
Lindisfarne,
Barry Ungar,
The Buckinghams,
Unrelated Segments,
Stiv Bators,
Black Moon,
Gang of Four,
Tim Buckley,
Theoretical Girls,
Von Mondo,
Michelle Simonal,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Knickerbockers,
Slave,
The Index,
John Coltrane,
Crime,
Delon & Dalcan,
Scan 7,
Black Bananas,
Moby Grape,
Whodini,
U.S. Maple,
Ponytail,
Silicon Teens,
The Moleskins,
The Vogues,
The Durutti Column,
Faraquet,
The Velvet Underground,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Piero Umiliani,
New York Dolls,
Archie Shepp,
Gang Gang Dance,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Mojo Men,
Goldenarms,
Rotary Connection,
Eric Dolphy,
Eddi Front,
Mad Mike,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Last Poets,
Funky Four + One,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Seeds,
Cymande,
Warsaw,
Quadrant,
the Slits,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.