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 Egypt and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Ultimate Spinach 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 Leonard Cohen. All the underground hits.
All Derrick Morgan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul Sonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Scientists,
Das Ding,
Drive Like Jehu,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Tommy Roe,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rosa Yemen,
Ultravox,
Cheater Slicks,
Public Enemy,
Public Image Ltd.,
FM Einheit,
Grauzone,
Crime,
Eric Copeland,
The Trojans,
Man Parrish,
The J.B.'s,
The Wake,
Boz Scaggs,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sarah Menescal,
Babytalk,
Grey Daturas,
Monks,
Sight & Sound,
Yellowson,
Iggy Pop,
Franke,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Mummies,
The Angels of Light,
Skaos,
The Cure,
Arthur Verocai,
The Victims,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Roger Hodgson,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lalo Schifrin,
Rekid,
The Slits,
K-Klass,
Sixth Finger,
Mars,
Zapp,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marcia Griffiths,
Scion,
Alphaville,
Accadde A,
Fear,
Kas Product,
John Coltrane,
Agitation Free,
Lungfish,
Audionom,
The Dave Clark Five,
T. Rex,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.