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 Macedonia and from Beijing.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Unwound to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Reagan Youth,
Davy DMX,
Marvin Gaye,
Loose Ends,
Intrusion,
The Gladiators,
Masters at Work,
Graham Central Station,
T. Rex,
Gabor Szabo,
Second Layer,
ABC,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Marc Almond,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fluxion,
Con Funk Shun,
Von Mondo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bang On A Can,
Japan,
Prince Buster,
The Zeros,
The Angels of Light,
Sällskapet,
Sexual Harrassment,
Donny Hathaway,
Magma,
Goldenarms,
The Human League,
10cc,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Derrick May,
Motorama,
Mo-Dettes,
Radiohead,
Minnie Riperton,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Smoke,
Shuggie Otis,
Idris Muhammad,
Quadrant,
Jawbox,
The Velvet Underground,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Offenders,
The Mummies,
Matthew Bourne,
Thompson Twins,
Colin Newman,
Depeche Mode,
The Standells,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Boz Scaggs,
These Immortal Souls,
June of 44,
Wally Richardson,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.