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 Libya and from Woodstock.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 chamberlin 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 Lakeside to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eurythmics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
Minutemen,
The Monochrome Set,
T. Rex,
Bobby Sherman,
World's Most,
La Düsseldorf,
Black Flag,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Martian,
Crash Course in Science,
Smog,
Roxy Music,
Pussy Galore,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Brand Nubian,
Nirvana,
Camberwell Now,
The Sonics,
Swell Maps,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Throbbing Gristle,
Infiniti,
Roy Ayers,
The Mummies,
The Shadows of Knight,
Hasil Adkins,
Masters at Work,
Henry Cow,
James White and The Blacks,
China Crisis,
Cheater Slicks,
Icehouse,
Bill Wells,
Lungfish,
Bob Dylan,
a-ha,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Gap Band,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pharoah Sanders,
Moby Grape,
The American Breed,
Scan 7,
Lyres,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Real Kids,
Ultra Naté,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mission of Burma,
The Names,
The Human League,
H. Thieme,
The Fall,
Monolake,
Electric Prunes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Average White Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cal Tjader,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.