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 Korea South 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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Pussy Galore to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Nico tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swans 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
One Last Wish,
Flipper,
Archie Shepp,
Oblivians,
China Crisis,
Sister Nancy,
Tres Demented,
The Blackbyrds,
The Moleskins,
La Düsseldorf,
Alton Ellis,
Don Cherry,
Iggy Pop,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
John Foxx,
Minutemen,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Moby Grape,
Lalann,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Happenings,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sexual Harrassment,
Subhumans,
Deadbeat,
Skriet,
Make Up,
Brass Construction,
Boogie Down Productions,
Circle Jerks,
Country Teasers,
Trumans Water,
Eve St. Jones,
Howard Jones,
the Soft Cell,
Steve Hackett,
Main Source,
Bauhaus,
Drive Like Jehu,
Pulsallama,
Terry Callier,
Ponytail,
Joyce Sims,
The Monks,
Todd Rundgren,
Reuben Wilson,
The Angels of Light,
Fatback Band,
The Fugs,
The Birthday Party,
The Beau Brummels,
Dark Day,
Loose Ends,
Angry Samoans,
Symarip,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Section 25,
Magma,
Oneida,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.