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 Iraq and from Bologna.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Paris.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 EPMD to the disco 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 Isaac Hayes. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
Angry Samoans,
Easy Going,
Ken Boothe,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eden Ahbez,
The Dirtbombs,
Charles Mingus,
Pantaleimon,
Thee Headcoats,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Accadde A,
Brass Construction,
Crash Course in Science,
Mandrill,
Monks,
Al Stewart,
Dawn Penn,
Freddie Wadling,
The Kinks,
Nik Kershaw,
June Days,
Metal Thangz,
Fluxion,
Kayak,
Arab on Radar,
the Bar-Kays,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sex Pistols,
Laurel Aitken,
Derrick Morgan,
Con Funk Shun,
Depeche Mode,
Glambeats Corp.,
Althea and Donna,
Parry Music,
Minutemen,
The Cramps,
Warren Ellis,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ituana,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Anakelly,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
L. Decosne,
Matthew Halsall,
Graham Central Station,
The Toasters,
Rites of Spring,
Lou Reed,
Black Moon,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eric Dolphy,
Pulsallama,
The Star Department,
Mantronix,
Inner City,
Black Pus,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Derrick May,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.