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 Spain and from Lagos.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Max Romeo to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Moebius,
Zapp,
Young Marble Giants,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Leaves,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Japan,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Nils Olav,
Sarah Menescal,
Bobby Sherman,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Wire,
Aaron Thompson,
Drexciya,
Blancmange,
Byron Stingily,
Sixth Finger,
Erykah Badu,
The Dirtbombs,
Quando Quango,
the Soft Cell,
Man Parrish,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bill Near,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lindisfarne,
The Slits,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Last Poets,
Pylon,
Subhumans,
Soft Machine,
Severed Heads,
The Buckinghams,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Misunderstood,
Ten City,
Livin' Joy,
Sex Pistols,
The Barracudas,
Heaven 17,
Negative Approach,
Nation of Ulysses,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kas Product,
Outsiders,
Skarface,
Harmonia,
John Lydon,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
John Holt,
Con Funk Shun,
Boz Scaggs,
Barclay James Harvest,
Nirvana,
Sun City Girls,
Ultravox,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.