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 Columbus.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Houston.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Supertramp to the techno 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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Joe Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yaz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eve St. Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Mantronix,
Cybotron,
David Axelrod,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Boredoms,
Babytalk,
The Pop Group,
Das Ding,
Cameo,
The Moody Blues,
One Last Wish,
Radio Birdman,
Todd Terry,
Technova,
Eden Ahbez,
Todd Rundgren,
Leonard Cohen,
Franke,
Cluster,
The Gun Club,
The Last Poets,
Althea and Donna,
John Holt,
Danielle Patucci,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jacques Brel,
Goldenarms,
Tom Boy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Scan 7,
Carl Craig,
Subhumans,
Moby Grape,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Boz Scaggs,
Vladislav Delay,
Fluxion,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ohio Players,
David Bowie,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Henry Cow,
The Angels of Light,
Lightning Bolt,
Wings,
Lee Hazlewood,
Prince Buster,
Accadde A,
The Skatalites,
Marshall Jefferson,
CMW,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Electric Prunes,
Terry Callier,
Nirvana,
The Tremeloes,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.