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 Bahrain and from Manchester.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 the Swans to the crunk 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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Outsiders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Evens,
Roxette,
Donald Byrd,
Niagra,
Hashim,
The Moleskins,
Lindisfarne,
Idris Muhammad,
Gabor Szabo,
Joe Finger,
Dave Gahan,
Joy Division,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Ohio Players,
David Bowie,
The Shadows of Knight,
Tom Boy,
The Mummies,
ABBA,
The Monochrome Set,
Minor Threat,
Cymande,
Rekid,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tropical Tobacco,
Archie Shepp,
Pantaleimon,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Crispian St. Peters,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Fat Boys,
The Misunderstood,
Visage,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Normal,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Stereo Dub,
Minutemen,
Hoover,
Crispy Ambulance,
Cecil Taylor,
Soul Sonic Force,
China Crisis,
Talk Talk,
Soft Cell,
Bang On A Can,
The Zeros,
Rotary Connection,
The Stooges,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Letta Mbulu,
The Red Krayola,
Grandmaster Flash,
Television Personalities,
The Leaves,
Lower 48,
Skaos,
Sun Ra,
The Litter,
cv313,
Lou Christie,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.