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 Dominican Republic and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gerry Rafferty to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Chris & Cosey,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Blossom Toes,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jeff Lynne,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ultravox,
David McCallum,
Graham Central Station,
The Move,
The Victims,
Can,
Lungfish,
Letta Mbulu,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Joe Finger,
Chris Corsano,
The Gun Club,
Steve Hackett,
June Days,
The Velvet Underground,
Whodini,
Judy Mowatt,
Scott Walker,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Maurizio,
Mo-Dettes,
The Misunderstood,
Scrapy,
Morten Harket,
Patti Smith,
Make Up,
Tom Boy,
Trumans Water,
Minutemen,
Loose Ends,
The American Breed,
Crispy Ambulance,
Chrome,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ultra Naté,
Minnie Riperton,
Mr. Review,
Fatback Band,
Grey Daturas,
Nirvana,
U.S. Maple,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Offenders,
Black Bananas,
Gang Gang Dance,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Harmonia,
The Evens,
Barry Ungar,
The Gladiators,
The Techniques,
the Germs,
Lower 48,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's.
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.