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 Liechtenstein and from Copenhagen.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Main Source to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Country Teasers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kaleidoscope,
Robert Wyatt,
Pussy Galore,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Judy Mowatt,
Sixth Finger,
Neu!,
The Misunderstood,
Eric Dolphy,
Drive Like Jehu,
Soft Cell,
The Knickerbockers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Flipper,
48th St. Collective,
Accadde A,
Gregory Isaacs,
Cybotron,
Symarip,
The Tremeloes,
Laurel Aitken,
The Human League,
John Foxx,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Joensuu 1685,
Deadbeat,
Pere Ubu,
X-101,
Matthew Bourne,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Dual Sessions,
K-Klass,
Shoche,
Sex Pistols,
Fugazi,
The Last Poets,
Scrapy,
Hardrive,
The Gap Band,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Wake,
The Stooges,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Man Eating Sloth,
ABBA,
Kayak,
Eyeless In Gaza,
MC5,
David Bowie,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rhythm & Sound,
Aural Exciters,
Thompson Twins,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ronnie Foster,
a-ha,
Bluetip,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.