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 Indonesia and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 harpsichord 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 Rakim to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Nick Fraelich,
Surgeon,
Suicide,
DNA,
Cecil Taylor,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Al Stewart,
The United States of America,
ABBA,
Delon & Dalcan,
OOIOO,
David McCallum,
Fear,
Icehouse,
Sällskapet,
Mantronix,
The Gladiators,
Henry Cow,
X-101,
Terrestrial Tones,
Groovy Waters,
Cheater Slicks,
The Fugs,
Neu!,
Don Cherry,
Dark Day,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Tropical Tobacco,
F. McDonald,
Dennis Brown,
Colin Newman,
DJ Sneak,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
David Bowie,
Joyce Sims,
Patti Smith,
Amon Düül,
Throbbing Gristle,
Theoretical Girls,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Spoonie Gee,
The Barracudas,
The Zeros,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Carl Craig,
Gang Gang Dance,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Gap Band,
Janne Schatter,
Rod Modell,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Smoke,
Joensuu 1685,
Ronan,
Animal Collective,
Depeche Mode,
Black Flag,
Cybotron,
The American Breed,
Wasted Youth,
Wally Richardson,
CMW,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.