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 Tunisia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Mr. Review to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Outsiders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jandek,
Nik Kershaw,
Lalo Schifrin,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Detroit Cobras,
Fatback Band,
Unwound,
Stereo Dub,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ohio Players,
Prince Buster,
World's Most,
Sixth Finger,
Ossler,
Young Marble Giants,
Tommy Roe,
Amazonics,
Chrome,
Alison Limerick,
CMW,
Boz Scaggs,
Byron Stingily,
Grandmaster Flash,
Robert Wyatt,
Buzzcocks,
Idris Muhammad,
Eric B and Rakim,
Funkadelic,
Chris & Cosey,
Jacob Miller,
Bob Dylan,
Depeche Mode,
Morten Harket,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Sonics,
Animal Collective,
Eve St. Jones,
Marvin Gaye,
Fad Gadget,
Public Enemy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Outsiders,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Human League,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Yusef Lateef,
H. Thieme,
Danielle Patucci,
Sun Ra,
Patti Smith,
Aswad,
The Golliwogs,
The Fortunes,
Davy DMX,
The Misunderstood,
Excepter,
Khruangbin,
Half Japanese,
Dead Boys,
Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product.
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.