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 South Africa and from Stockholm.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 güiro 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 Lebanon Hanover to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June Days record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
Inner City,
Vladislav Delay,
Soul II Soul,
Nico,
Section 25,
The Slackers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Brand Nubian,
Wasted Youth,
Erykah Badu,
Quando Quango,
Organ,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Cameo,
Hot Snakes,
Yellowson,
Los Fastidios,
kango's stein massive,
Alice Coltrane,
Bluetip,
X-101,
K-Klass,
Echospace,
Pantaleimon,
Glenn Branca,
Mark Hollis,
Simply Red,
Chrome,
The Fortunes,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Cymande,
The Motions,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jerry's Kids,
DJ Sneak,
Barclay James Harvest,
Nirvana,
the Bar-Kays,
Swell Maps,
Dennis Brown,
Suburban Knight,
Donald Byrd,
John Holt,
Camberwell Now,
Goldenarms,
Pussy Galore,
T.S.O.L.,
Vainqueur,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Walker Brothers,
The Buckinghams,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bush Tetras,
a-ha,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kurtis Blow,
The Barracudas,
In Retrospect,
Faraquet,
The Modern Lovers,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.