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 Mauritius and from Mexico City.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 spring reverb 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 Jesper Dahlback to the jazz 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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Warsaw,
The Raincoats,
Fat Boys,
Rakim,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tim Buckley,
Sexual Harrassment,
Maurizio,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Absolute Body Control,
Mad Mike,
Fugazi,
The Beau Brummels,
Lucky Dragons,
Eric Copeland,
Rites of Spring,
Cecil Taylor,
Leonard Cohen,
Maleditus Sound,
Colin Newman,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Electric Prunes,
Davy DMX,
Judy Mowatt,
The Walker Brothers,
Harry Pussy,
Von Mondo,
Brothers Johnson,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ohio Players,
The Real Kids,
Dave Gahan,
Terry Callier,
Ronnie Foster,
Hashim,
Drexciya,
Second Layer,
Grandmaster Flash,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Radio Birdman,
Pantytec,
David McCallum,
Radiohead,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bill Near,
The Modern Lovers,
the Human League,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Roxette,
Ponytail,
Minnie Riperton,
FM Einheit,
H. Thieme,
Soul II Soul,
Faraquet,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Andrew Hill,
Isaac Hayes,
Crime,
Morten Harket,
Deakin,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
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.