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 Lithuania and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Josef K 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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
The Flesh Eaters,
Don Cherry,
Janne Schatter,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Terrestrial Tones,
Excepter,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Joensuu 1685,
Deadbeat,
Boz Scaggs,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Steve Hackett,
the Fania All-Stars,
Hashim,
Thee Headcoats,
The Doors,
The Blackbyrds,
Matthew Halsall,
The Pop Group,
Royal Trux,
La Düsseldorf,
Groovy Waters,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
T.S.O.L.,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ornette Coleman,
Lalann,
Traffic Nightmare,
Yazoo,
Vainqueur,
Susan Cadogan,
Masters at Work,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cal Tjader,
Patti Smith,
Funky Four + One,
The Smoke,
Ultra Naté,
Charles Mingus,
Massinfluence,
New Order,
Echospace,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Zero Boys,
The Victims,
Chrome,
Average White Band,
Little Man,
PIL,
Newcleus,
Hot Snakes,
Jeru the Damaja,
Siglo XX,
The Seeds,
Section 25,
Second Layer,
Man Parrish,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Index,
Spoonie Gee,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.