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 Liechtenstein and from Mexico City.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 organ 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 Anthony Braxton to the grunge 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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All The Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Symarip,
Amon Düül,
Lightning Bolt,
Nick Fraelich,
F. McDonald,
Kurtis Blow,
H. Thieme,
Gang of Four,
Laurel Aitken,
The Modern Lovers,
Bad Manners,
Stockholm Monsters,
10cc,
Frankie Knuckles,
Reagan Youth,
Slave,
Tommy Roe,
The Cramps,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Brass Construction,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sonic Youth,
Quando Quango,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Little Man,
Wings,
Model 500,
The Leaves,
The Kinks,
UT,
Fugazi,
Marmalade,
DJ Sneak,
Marc Almond,
Joe Smooth,
Carl Craig,
Urselle,
The Count Five,
Roy Ayers,
Joy Division,
The Sonics,
John Lydon,
MDC,
Robert Görl,
June Days,
Fat Boys,
Half Japanese,
The Red Krayola,
Siglo XX,
Peter and Kerry,
Arthur Verocai,
Barrington Levy,
Skaos,
Arab on Radar,
Stereo Dub,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rosa Yemen,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.