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 Nauru and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Letta Mbulu to the rock 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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All MC5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Young Marble Giants,
Harry Pussy,
Piero Umiliani,
Tres Demented,
Bang On A Can,
Audionom,
the Bar-Kays,
The Gories,
Alice Coltrane,
Gichy Dan,
Amazonics,
The Smoke,
Faust,
Massinfluence,
Whodini,
Sexual Harrassment,
Skaos,
The Dead C,
Heaven 17,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Eden Ahbez,
Drexciya,
Yellowson,
Derrick Morgan,
Danielle Patucci,
Rotary Connection,
Jimmy McGriff,
Dawn Penn,
Parry Music,
Smog,
The Blues Magoos,
June of 44,
Robert Hood,
Joensuu 1685,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Anakelly,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Stiv Bators,
Wally Richardson,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eric B and Rakim,
Funkadelic,
Erykah Badu,
A Certain Ratio,
Easy Going,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Moby Grape,
Oblivians,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Nik Kershaw,
Interpol,
Hasil Adkins,
E-Dancer,
Bob Dylan,
Grauzone,
Bobby Byrd,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
DJ Sneak,
Kas Product,
Malaria!,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.