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 Burundi and from Paris.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Accra.
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 oboe 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 Tim Buckley to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Kas Product tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
Bobby Byrd,
The Star Department,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Heaven 17,
Josef K,
Essential Logic,
Television Personalities,
Funkadelic,
Eddi Front,
Pere Ubu,
Boredoms,
Oneida,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gang Green,
Skriet,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Spandau Ballet,
T.S.O.L.,
ABC,
F. McDonald,
Radio Birdman,
Harry Pussy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Susan Cadogan,
The Wake,
The Doobie Brothers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Malaria!,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Cowsills,
Donald Byrd,
Ultimate Spinach,
Guru Guru,
H. Thieme,
Sandy B,
Con Funk Shun,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Davy DMX,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Agent Orange,
The New Christs,
Unwound,
Fela Kuti,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bauhaus,
Little Man,
David Axelrod,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Basic Channel,
Can,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rotary Connection,
The Five Americans,
Rakim,
Supertramp,
the Germs,
Reagan Youth,
Arthur Verocai,
the Soft Cell,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.