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 Antigua and from Lyon.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Lyres to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Loose Ends. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
Sexual Harrassment,
Magma,
Camberwell Now,
The Victims,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Faust,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cameo,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Albert Ayler,
The Knickerbockers,
Ronnie Foster,
Oneida,
Mandrill,
Deakin,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Freddie Wadling,
Eli Mardock,
Bobby Sherman,
Brick,
Niagra,
Pussy Galore,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mr. Review,
The Angels of Light,
Sparks,
The Birthday Party,
The Barracudas,
Marvin Gaye,
Todd Rundgren,
Michelle Simonal,
Carl Craig,
Barry Ungar,
Lower 48,
The Dead C,
Supertramp,
Liliput,
Dennis Brown,
The Mojo Men,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Judy Mowatt,
Gang Green,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Neon Judgement,
Anthony Braxton,
R.M.O.,
Lou Reed,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kevin Saunderson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Average White Band,
Arcadia,
Severed Heads,
The New Christs,
Jimmy McGriff,
Oblivians,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
the Human League,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.