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 Denmark and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 güiro 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Tommy Roe,
Sun City Girls,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Barbara Tucker,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
the Fania All-Stars,
Alison Limerick,
the Human League,
Max Romeo,
The Cure,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rapeman,
Chris & Cosey,
The Sonics,
Junior Murvin,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Saccharine Trust,
Bang On A Can,
Bronski Beat,
The Walker Brothers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Excepter,
Dennis Brown,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Byron Stingily,
Inner City,
Matthew Halsall,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Wire,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bluetip,
The Techniques,
Crime,
Derrick Morgan,
Dead Boys,
The Velvet Underground,
Pole,
H. Thieme,
John Holt,
Pantytec,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lower 48,
The United States of America,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kerri Chandler,
Sex Pistols,
Ultravox,
Sister Nancy,
K-Klass,
Jawbox,
Mandrill,
Skarface,
Dawn Penn,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Drive Like Jehu,
The American Breed,
Ohio Players,
John Cale,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.