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 Comoros 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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Beijing.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the snare 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Michelle Simonal. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Foxx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Hashim,
Jeru the Damaja,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Cramps,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
the Sonics,
The Residents,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Blake Baxter,
Terry Callier,
The New Christs,
Roger Hodgson,
A Certain Ratio,
Joey Negro,
The Raincoats,
The Monochrome Set,
James White and The Blacks,
Barrington Levy,
The Fire Engines,
Tomorrow,
The American Breed,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sixth Finger,
Peter & Gordon,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Saints,
Bush Tetras,
The Skatalites,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Dead C,
Model 500,
Half Japanese,
Popol Vuh,
Prince Buster,
The Divine Comedy,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bluetip,
Rites of Spring,
Khruangbin,
Soulsonic Force,
Talk Talk,
The Electric Prunes,
Zapp,
Sandy B,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Grey Daturas,
Rapeman,
The Moody Blues,
Qualms,
KRS-One,
One Last Wish,
Pantytec,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lou Christie,
Goldenarms,
The Music Machine,
Reagan Youth,
Tropical Tobacco,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.