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 Serbia and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 David McCallum to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jerry's Kids. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
Frankie Knuckles,
Roger Hodgson,
Alton Ellis,
Crooked Eye,
Underground Resistance,
Subhumans,
The Dirtbombs,
Sixth Finger,
Zapp,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Music Machine,
Barrington Levy,
The Durutti Column,
F. McDonald,
Wire,
T. Rex,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Silicon Teens,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Star Department,
Eric Copeland,
Todd Rundgren,
Gichy Dan,
The Pretty Things,
New Order,
Ludus,
Spoonie Gee,
The Victims,
Black Moon,
Quando Quango,
The Invisible,
Chris & Cosey,
Alphaville,
Roxy Music,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mr. Review,
Kerrie Biddell,
Robert Görl,
Davy DMX,
Gang Starr,
Piero Umiliani,
Excepter,
Average White Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Terry Callier,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Isaac Hayes,
Little Man,
Joe Smooth,
Angry Samoans,
Sugar Minott,
Dennis Brown,
Grauzone,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.