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 Dominican Republic and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Hasil Adkins to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All The Evens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Leonard Cohen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Nick Fraelich,
The Toasters,
Crash Course in Science,
The Fugs,
X-Ray Spex,
Blake Baxter,
The Birthday Party,
T.S.O.L.,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Germs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Das Ding,
The J.B.'s,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bush Tetras,
Johnny Clarke,
The American Breed,
Parry Music,
Circle Jerks,
Goldenarms,
Scan 7,
Lightning Bolt,
Boogie Down Productions,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kerri Chandler,
The Flesh Eaters,
Matthew Halsall,
the Soft Cell,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bluetip,
Reuben Wilson,
Warren Ellis,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Marcia Griffiths,
Crispian St. Peters,
Throbbing Gristle,
Half Japanese,
Al Stewart,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jeff Lynne,
David McCallum,
Gong,
Mantronix,
Pulsallama,
Ornette Coleman,
New Order,
Traffic Nightmare,
DJ Style,
Alice Coltrane,
Patti Smith,
Marc Almond,
Urselle,
Quando Quango,
Intrusion,
The Blues Magoos,
Kenny Larkin,
Little Man,
The Gap Band,
Kayak,
Charles Mingus,
48th St. Collective,
Ultimate Spinach,
Los Fastidios,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.