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 Burkina and from Accra.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 arpeggiator 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 to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Toni Rubio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Dead Boys,
The Cowsills,
Harmonia,
Simply Red,
The Five Americans,
Ken Boothe,
Barrington Levy,
Grauzone,
The Standells,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Scott Walker,
X-Ray Spex,
Terrestrial Tones,
X-101,
Camberwell Now,
Visage,
The Neon Judgement,
The Motions,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eurythmics,
Harry Pussy,
10cc,
Y Pants,
Alice Coltrane,
The Names,
Intrusion,
Shuggie Otis,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sight & Sound,
Jeru the Damaja,
Schoolly D,
Half Japanese,
Camouflage,
X-102,
The J.B.'s,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Warren Ellis,
Jawbox,
Scrapy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pole,
MC5,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bang On A Can,
Wire,
Ronnie Foster,
Theoretical Girls,
Neil Young,
Tom Boy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Anakelly,
Magazine,
The Golliwogs,
James White and The Blacks,
Desert Stars,
Talk Talk,
Darondo,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Siglo XX,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.