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 Sudan and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 rhodes 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 Television Personalities to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Easy Going. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
Magazine,
The Buckinghams,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Josef K,
Gang Starr,
Rod Modell,
the Association,
Tommy Roe,
The Associates,
Whodini,
Sällskapet,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
UT,
L. Decosne,
David Axelrod,
Blake Baxter,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jerry's Kids,
Barry Ungar,
Scan 7,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Cure,
Gregory Isaacs,
Television,
The Seeds,
Infiniti,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nik Kershaw,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Cal Tjader,
T. Rex,
The Count Five,
Heaven 17,
La Düsseldorf,
Pussy Galore,
The Dead C,
Excepter,
World's Most,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Albert Ayler,
The Monks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Man Parrish,
Eric Copeland,
Crash Course in Science,
Skaos,
Piero Umiliani,
Sun City Girls,
FM Einheit,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Neon Judgement,
Vladislav Delay,
Altered Images,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Y Pants,
DJ Sneak,
The Dirtbombs,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.