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 Cambodia and from Bologna.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
Mary Jane Girls,
Derrick Morgan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Slave,
Agent Orange,
The Fortunes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cheater Slicks,
Gregory Isaacs,
Black Moon,
The Slits,
Skriet,
Skarface,
Bob Dylan,
Quadrant,
Mr. Review,
Don Cherry,
Flamin' Groovies,
Soul Sonic Force,
Black Flag,
Scientists,
Danielle Patucci,
Fad Gadget,
Accadde A,
Chrome,
Cecil Taylor,
Camberwell Now,
Agitation Free,
Stockholm Monsters,
Fluxion,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
X-102,
Underground Resistance,
Spoonie Gee,
Babytalk,
John Holt,
The Residents,
Donald Byrd,
The Remains,
These Immortal Souls,
Eric Copeland,
Sällskapet,
Radiohead,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Fugazi,
Sun Ra,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Severed Heads,
The American Breed,
Scratch Acid,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pierre Henry,
Procol Harum,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
DNA,
Graham Central Station,
Alton Ellis,
Janne Schatter,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.