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 Kosovo 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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Mantronix to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Gang Starr,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Chrome,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Eric Copeland,
Babytalk,
Ralphi Rosario,
Anthony Braxton,
Joey Negro,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bobby Sherman,
Sex Pistols,
Television,
Circle Jerks,
Funky Four + One,
Hasil Adkins,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Todd Rundgren,
Unrelated Segments,
Trumans Water,
Lightning Bolt,
Ken Boothe,
UT,
Theoretical Girls,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Dave Clark Five,
Albert Ayler,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Excepter,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Liliput,
The Remains,
Stockholm Monsters,
Popol Vuh,
David McCallum,
Buzzcocks,
Marvin Gaye,
Arab on Radar,
John Lydon,
Eric Dolphy,
Moby Grape,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Vogues,
Glenn Branca,
Bobby Womack,
Faraquet,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Deadbeat,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Black Dice,
Roger Hodgson,
Alton Ellis,
Aloha Tigers,
The Victims,
Grandmaster Flash,
Talk Talk,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Young Rascals,
John Foxx,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.