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 Turkmenistan and from Seoul.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Madrid.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Mars to the grunge 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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Lakeside,
Prince Buster,
X-Ray Spex,
The Fire Engines,
The Five Americans,
DJ Sneak,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kool Moe Dee,
Audionom,
Can,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Bar-Kays,
Soft Cell,
Kerrie Biddell,
Kaleidoscope,
Basic Channel,
Toni Rubio,
Joe Finger,
The Pretty Things,
Ultra Naté,
The Velvet Underground,
Laurel Aitken,
Talk Talk,
Barbara Tucker,
Los Fastidios,
Bizarre Inc.,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Flash Fearless,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Evens,
Roxy Music,
The Misunderstood,
Donald Byrd,
The Searchers,
Eric Dolphy,
K-Klass,
Cheater Slicks,
Idris Muhammad,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Symarip,
MC5,
Pierre Henry,
Stiv Bators,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Neu!,
Scratch Acid,
Young Marble Giants,
Television Personalities,
Icehouse,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Shuggie Otis,
The Gap Band,
Albert Ayler,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sex Pistols,
Stereo Dub,
Camberwell Now,
Fear,
The Dirtbombs,
John Lydon,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.