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 Benin and from Columbus.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Rapeman to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
The Wake,
Cybotron,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sixth Finger,
Gang Green,
Zapp,
10cc,
the Association,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bootsy Collins,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lee Hazlewood,
Vladislav Delay,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Real Kids,
Mr. Review,
Roxette,
Nils Olav,
The Flesh Eaters,
kango's stein massive,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Neil Young,
Eve St. Jones,
Charles Mingus,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Knickerbockers,
Sun City Girls,
Lalann,
Marvin Gaye,
The Cramps,
Essential Logic,
Pole,
Pagans,
Crispy Ambulance,
Alton Ellis,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mars,
Wally Richardson,
R.M.O.,
Hashim,
Scientists,
Audionom,
Funky Four + One,
The Blackbyrds,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Toasters,
The Index,
DJ Sneak,
Mantronix,
Rod Modell,
Bobby Byrd,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Blake Baxter,
The United States of America,
Pierre Henry,
Cal Tjader,
Magazine,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.