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 Russia and from Bologna.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 Mandrill to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Alice Coltrane,
The Trojans,
Robert Hood,
Barry Ungar,
Piero Umiliani,
Banda Bassotti,
Brand Nubian,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Byron Stingily,
Sixth Finger,
Frankie Knuckles,
KRS-One,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gang Gang Dance,
Moss Icon,
H. Thieme,
X-102,
The Angels of Light,
The Electric Prunes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bill Near,
Bobby Sherman,
Siglo XX,
Prince Buster,
Swans,
Oblivians,
Rites of Spring,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Kinks,
The Blackbyrds,
Anthony Braxton,
Ralphi Rosario,
John Lydon,
Bobby Byrd,
Sandy B,
The Gap Band,
Danielle Patucci,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Stereo Dub,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The United States of America,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Zapp,
the Association,
The New Christs,
Leonard Cohen,
Average White Band,
The Cramps,
Rotary Connection,
Skarface,
Newcleus,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Soft Cell,
The Dirtbombs,
Juan Atkins,
Hot Snakes,
The Zeros,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
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.