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 Nigeria and from Copenhagen.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 KRS-One to the grime 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 The Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Modern Lovers,
Lungfish,
Zero Boys,
Television Personalities,
Bob Dylan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Real Kids,
Supertramp,
Absolute Body Control,
The Cosmic Jokers,
A Certain Ratio,
Hasil Adkins,
Lou Christie,
The Dirtbombs,
Au Pairs,
The Shadows of Knight,
Chris Corsano,
Bootsy Collins,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Roger Hodgson,
Grauzone,
Spandau Ballet,
Aural Exciters,
Matthew Bourne,
Youth Brigade,
Johnny Clarke,
Zapp,
Rotary Connection,
Ossler,
Bobby Womack,
The Cramps,
Boogie Down Productions,
Harmonia,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ten City,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Little Man,
Lyres,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gang Starr,
Sugar Minott,
Tommy Roe,
Pulsallama,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Electric Prunes,
The Busters,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Scan 7,
The Tremeloes,
The J.B.'s,
Con Funk Shun,
Faraquet,
Kurtis Blow,
Slick Rick,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Heaven 17,
Harry Pussy,
Junior Murvin,
Negative Approach,
DJ Sneak,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.