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 Austria and from Shanghai.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 clarinet 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 Sun Ra to the electroclash 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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Normal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Goldenarms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
Banda Bassotti,
the Fania All-Stars,
Soft Cell,
ABBA,
Neu!,
Blossom Toes,
Delon & Dalcan,
Panda Bear,
Dual Sessions,
Radio Birdman,
a-ha,
Lightning Bolt,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Detroit Cobras,
Alison Limerick,
Bobby Sherman,
The Trojans,
Sex Pistols,
Isaac Hayes,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Sound,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Amon Düül,
Neil Young,
Duran Duran,
Letta Mbulu,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Electric Prunes,
Clear Light,
Ituana,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Searchers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bronski Beat,
Soulsonic Force,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
David McCallum,
Leonard Cohen,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Yaz,
Deakin,
Deadbeat,
Judy Mowatt,
The Birthday Party,
Tubeway Army,
Das Ding,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Mars,
Crime,
Eddi Front,
Warsaw,
World's Most,
Pussy Galore,
Scratch Acid,
Dark Day,
Audionom,
Jerry's Kids,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.