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 Madagascar and from Lille.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 marimba 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the jazz 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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
B.T. Express,
Bootsy Collins,
The Leaves,
Jacques Brel,
John Cale,
Aswad,
Parry Music,
Sällskapet,
The Tremeloes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Wake,
Bad Manners,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gerry Rafferty,
Suicide,
The Raincoats,
Black Flag,
Amon Düül,
DJ Sneak,
Frankie Knuckles,
Joy Division,
The Golliwogs,
Wasted Youth,
Amon Düül II,
Joyce Sims,
Sound Behaviour,
Terry Callier,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Neil Young,
Section 25,
Technova,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
kango's stein massive,
Man Eating Sloth,
Patti Smith,
E-Dancer,
Crispian St. Peters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Inner City,
Gang Gang Dance,
Soul Sonic Force,
Throbbing Gristle,
Chrome,
Graham Central Station,
Model 500,
Intrusion,
Cymande,
Connie Case,
Henry Cow,
X-Ray Spex,
Joe Smooth,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Busters,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Slackers,
Second Layer,
Peter & Gordon,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.