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 Turkmenistan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the oboe 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 Curtis Mayfield to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lucky Dragons,
Stetsasonic,
One Last Wish,
Sun City Girls,
Shuggie Otis,
Kaleidoscope,
Loose Ends,
Henry Cow,
The Durutti Column,
Depeche Mode,
The Dave Clark Five,
June Days,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Kinks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Vainqueur,
Trumans Water,
Average White Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eve St. Jones,
John Cale,
Simply Red,
New York Dolls,
Terry Callier,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pulsallama,
Brand Nubian,
Bob Dylan,
Index,
Second Layer,
Kerri Chandler,
Rufus Thomas,
The Red Krayola,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Skatalites,
FM Einheit,
LL Cool J,
The Neon Judgement,
Ultravox,
X-101,
Thee Headcoats,
Eric Dolphy,
Sandy B,
Harmonia,
Traffic Nightmare,
The United States of America,
Jesper Dahlback,
Drexciya,
Dead Boys,
Tropical Tobacco,
Little Man,
Ice-T,
The Litter,
T.S.O.L.,
The Stooges,
Circle Jerks,
Sun Ra,
Boz Scaggs,
Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz.
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.