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 Australia and from London.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 The Alarm Clocks to the crunk 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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sixth Finger 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a JFA 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?
Rekid,
Young Marble Giants,
Fugazi,
Matthew Halsall,
The Fire Engines,
Bill Near,
Roxy Music,
Lalo Schifrin,
UT,
Soul Sonic Force,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bizarre Inc.,
June Days,
Jacques Brel,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marmalade,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Crispy Ambulance,
Shuggie Otis,
Sonic Youth,
X-Ray Spex,
The Neon Judgement,
The Move,
Hot Snakes,
Tears for Fears,
John Coltrane,
Inner City,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Max Romeo,
Hasil Adkins,
Skaos,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Godley & Creme,
Terry Callier,
MC5,
Kerri Chandler,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Barracudas,
Cal Tjader,
Television Personalities,
John Cale,
Donald Byrd,
The Vogues,
Kurtis Blow,
The Flesh Eaters,
Laurel Aitken,
The Moody Blues,
Michelle Simonal,
Spandau Ballet,
The Gories,
Stockholm Monsters,
R.M.O.,
Jeru the Damaja,
Barry Ungar,
New York Dolls,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Roger Hodgson,
Scott Walker,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.