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 Papua New Guinea and from Spokane.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Woodstock.
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 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 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 John Coltrane to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 DeepChord presents Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rotary Connection 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
Q and Not U,
Siglo XX,
Qualms,
Susan Cadogan,
The Flesh Eaters,
Shuggie Otis,
Delon & Dalcan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lucky Dragons,
Boredoms,
Royal Trux,
Funkadelic,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Rosa Yemen,
Skarface,
Young Marble Giants,
Country Teasers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Tom Boy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Boz Scaggs,
Blancmange,
Crime,
Pantytec,
Camouflage,
Ultravox,
The Techniques,
Zapp,
June of 44,
Sixth Finger,
Michelle Simonal,
Sugar Minott,
U.S. Maple,
Warsaw,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lightning Bolt,
cv313,
Scion,
F. McDonald,
Severed Heads,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Second Layer,
Spandau Ballet,
Subhumans,
Monks,
The Standells,
The Sound,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Matthew Bourne,
Black Bananas,
One Last Wish,
Scott Walker,
Theoretical Girls,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
David Axelrod,
The Wake,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.