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 Uruguay and from Jakarta.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 arpeggiator 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 Shoche to the jazz 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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All Delon & Dalcan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Intrusion,
New Age Steppers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Magma,
Todd Rundgren,
Nik Kershaw,
Pussy Galore,
Pylon,
Tomorrow,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ponytail,
Au Pairs,
Sam Rivers,
Robert Görl,
The Invisible,
The Searchers,
Susan Cadogan,
The Martian,
The Index,
Dennis Brown,
The Neon Judgement,
Fatback Band,
Los Fastidios,
Model 500,
Warsaw,
Bobby Sherman,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Music Machine,
Al Stewart,
Ten City,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Inner City,
Roxette,
Oblivians,
Second Layer,
Black Moon,
The United States of America,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Names,
Pulsallama,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Monks,
Hasil Adkins,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
kango's stein massive,
Sun City Girls,
Reagan Youth,
X-Ray Spex,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bush Tetras,
H. Thieme,
The Fall,
Glenn Branca,
the Sonics,
Carl Craig,
The Young Rascals,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Spandau Ballet,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.