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 Mauritius and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 synthesizer 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 Kaleidoscope to the punk 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 Barbara Tucker. All the underground hits.
All Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
ABBA,
Arthur Verocai,
Eve St. Jones,
The Gap Band,
Tears for Fears,
The Selecter,
Roxy Music,
Anthony Braxton,
Marmalade,
Flamin' Groovies,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Saints,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Move,
The Fall,
Accadde A,
Surgeon,
The Neon Judgement,
Robert Görl,
Minor Threat,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Modern Lovers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Quadrant,
Public Image Ltd.,
LL Cool J,
Ituana,
Wasted Youth,
cv313,
Grey Daturas,
Sonic Youth,
Michelle Simonal,
Adolescents,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Techniques,
Alton Ellis,
John Holt,
Liliput,
The Invisible,
Susan Cadogan,
Camberwell Now,
Visage,
The Human League,
Absolute Body Control,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ralphi Rosario,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
KRS-One,
Basic Channel,
Al Stewart,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Fortunes,
Laurel Aitken,
Gastr Del Sol,
Circle Jerks,
Black Flag,
Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions.
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.