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 Guyana and from Milan.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 the Association to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All The Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Toasters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül II,
Mo-Dettes,
The Gun Club,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lindisfarne,
Model 500,
The Martian,
the Bar-Kays,
The Doors,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sister Nancy,
Cheater Slicks,
Yellowson,
The Fire Engines,
Babytalk,
Das Ding,
Zero Boys,
The Wake,
Schoolly D,
Nik Kershaw,
ABC,
The Names,
Tom Boy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Litter,
Barrington Levy,
New Order,
The Standells,
Idris Muhammad,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lou Reed,
Chris Corsano,
Grauzone,
World's Most,
Camouflage,
Brand Nubian,
T. Rex,
Marcia Griffiths,
Depeche Mode,
Dark Day,
Maurizio,
The Blackbyrds,
Negative Approach,
The Cowsills,
Visage,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Mad Mike,
The Move,
Mark Hollis,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Skaos,
Wasted Youth,
Barry Ungar,
Motorama,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.