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 Madagascar and from Jakarta.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Patti Smith to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Cybotron,
Icehouse,
Judy Mowatt,
Bootsy Collins,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pussy Galore,
The Real Kids,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Blake Baxter,
Blancmange,
The Standells,
Echospace,
Hardrive,
Godley & Creme,
Franke,
China Crisis,
Donny Hathaway,
Henry Cow,
Joyce Sims,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Visage,
Gerry Rafferty,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The J.B.'s,
Fluxion,
the Slits,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Fortunes,
Aswad,
The Count Five,
The Selecter,
Banda Bassotti,
Japan,
Bush Tetras,
Reuben Wilson,
Masters at Work,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Maurizio,
Slick Rick,
Boz Scaggs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Monks,
Essential Logic,
Soul II Soul,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Skriet,
Barbara Tucker,
Gastr Del Sol,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Shoche,
Howard Jones,
Faust,
The Seeds,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gabor Szabo,
UT,
The Saints,
The Searchers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.