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 Cameroon and from Columbus.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 organ 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 the Human League to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
Wings,
Public Image Ltd.,
Jeff Mills,
Bill Wells,
Peter and Kerry,
Vladislav Delay,
The Stooges,
Patti Smith,
David McCallum,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Animal Collective,
DJ Style,
Fad Gadget,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Al Stewart,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Count Five,
The Litter,
Scrapy,
the Bar-Kays,
The Tremeloes,
Rakim,
Pulsallama,
The Slackers,
Ludus,
Guru Guru,
Gerry Rafferty,
Television,
Leonard Cohen,
Thee Headcoats,
Oblivians,
T. Rex,
Nico,
Jeff Lynne,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Invisible,
Little Man,
Soulsonic Force,
The Fire Engines,
Scion,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Silicon Teens,
The Angels of Light,
The Names,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bush Tetras,
CMW,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Nick Fraelich,
Eric Copeland,
Pere Ubu,
Slick Rick,
Severed Heads,
Anthony Braxton,
Colin Newman,
Arcadia,
Make Up,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.