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 Cape Verde and from New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Flipper to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gap Band 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Dark Day,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Sonics,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
a-ha,
Roy Ayers,
Spoonie Gee,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
the Association,
Lungfish,
The Fall,
Bob Dylan,
Marshall Jefferson,
Black Bananas,
Pulsallama,
The Wake,
The Flesh Eaters,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Tomorrow,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Robert Hood,
Al Stewart,
Ultravox,
Eve St. Jones,
Q65,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Pretty Things,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Buzzcocks,
The Blues Magoos,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Beau Brummels,
Man Parrish,
Lalann,
Darondo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Minnie Riperton,
Lucky Dragons,
Swell Maps,
Bobby Womack,
Parry Music,
The Names,
The Star Department,
Arthur Verocai,
June Days,
The Sound,
Accadde A,
Bobby Byrd,
Ice-T,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Idris Muhammad,
Eden Ahbez,
The Remains,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cecil Taylor,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Bar-Kays,
China Crisis,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet.
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.