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 Ivory Coast and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Lee Hazlewood to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dave Gahan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hashim,
Little Man,
Mantronix,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jeff Mills,
L. Decosne,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Residents,
X-101,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Knickerbockers,
Crispian St. Peters,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gang Green,
The Beau Brummels,
Rufus Thomas,
Sam Rivers,
Marmalade,
Minutemen,
Niagra,
Von Mondo,
Das Ding,
Ralphi Rosario,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Al Stewart,
Swans,
Cluster,
Gong,
Kayak,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Deepchord,
Johnny Clarke,
Mission of Burma,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Groovy Waters,
Joe Finger,
Maurizio,
Tres Demented,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Suburban Knight,
Robert Görl,
Pylon,
The Tremeloes,
The Zeros,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Buzzcocks,
Intrusion,
Grandmaster Flash,
Amon Düül II,
Frankie Knuckles,
Slick Rick,
Lindisfarne,
Organ,
Negative Approach,
Japan,
Lou Christie,
Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops.
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.