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 Poland and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 snare 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 The Cosmic Jokers to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Nils Olav,
Magazine,
R.M.O.,
The Moody Blues,
Robert Wyatt,
Aloha Tigers,
Cameo,
The Dead C,
Ice-T,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Quadrant,
Black Bananas,
Gil Scott Heron,
Connie Case,
Youth Brigade,
Accadde A,
The Young Rascals,
Kayak,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Radio Birdman,
Subhumans,
Supertramp,
Janne Schatter,
Matthew Halsall,
Kurtis Blow,
Spandau Ballet,
Archie Shepp,
Gang Starr,
Audionom,
8 Eyed Spy,
Josef K,
Organ,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Residents,
Gerry Rafferty,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eden Ahbez,
This Heat,
Minny Pops,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lakeside,
the Sonics,
Chris Corsano,
EPMD,
Hasil Adkins,
The Modern Lovers,
In Retrospect,
Angry Samoans,
The Fugs,
Tears for Fears,
The Offenders,
Jawbox,
Minnie Riperton,
Matthew Bourne,
Faust,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.