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 Tuvalu and from Johannesburg.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 spring reverb 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 Eric Copeland to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Model 500. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
DNA,
Khruangbin,
Aaron Thompson,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Thompson Twins,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
OOIOO,
London Community Gospel Choir,
R.M.O.,
Joy Division,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Music Machine,
Colin Newman,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
L. Decosne,
The Gun Club,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Juan Atkins,
the Germs,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mo-Dettes,
The Cramps,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lou Reed,
Erasure,
Rhythm & Sound,
La Düsseldorf,
The Pop Group,
Hot Snakes,
Television Personalities,
Nils Olav,
Marvin Gaye,
Nick Fraelich,
Amon Düül II,
Subhumans,
Patti Smith,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Youth Brigade,
Rod Modell,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Average White Band,
Angry Samoans,
Bad Manners,
Al Stewart,
Radiopuhelimet,
Althea and Donna,
Brand Nubian,
Hoover,
Smog,
Max Romeo,
Quando Quango,
Panda Bear,
Ten City,
Lucky Dragons,
Fat Boys,
Malaria!,
Harry Pussy,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.