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 Mali 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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 guitar 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 Wolf Eyes to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Chrome,
Cameo,
Tom Boy,
Interpol,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Sonics,
Gong,
Ronan,
The Move,
Goldenarms,
Gang Gang Dance,
Warren Ellis,
Pagans,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Little Man,
Robert Hood,
Minor Threat,
Marvin Gaye,
Bronski Beat,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rekid,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Flipper,
Section 25,
Eli Mardock,
Blancmange,
Joyce Sims,
Quando Quango,
Black Flag,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Electric Prunes,
Donny Hathaway,
Faust,
Motorama,
Crash Course in Science,
Rapeman,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Young Marble Giants,
Marmalade,
Jesper Dahlback,
Howard Jones,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mars,
June of 44,
Moby Grape,
Aural Exciters,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Residents,
Banda Bassotti,
Vainqueur,
Terry Callier,
Royal Trux,
June Days,
Todd Terry,
Ossler,
The Flesh Eaters,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.