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 Somalia and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lagos.
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 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 Donald Fagen 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 Gil Scott Heron to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Judy Mowatt,
The Standells,
Sun City Girls,
The Pretty Things,
Freddie Wadling,
Piero Umiliani,
John Lydon,
kango's stein massive,
Jacques Brel,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Tubeway Army,
Nas,
The Beau Brummels,
Vladislav Delay,
The Alarm Clocks,
Matthew Bourne,
Lakeside,
Boredoms,
Country Teasers,
Matthew Halsall,
Eve St. Jones,
Iggy Pop,
It's A Beautiful Day,
JFA,
Fatback Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
Max Romeo,
Man Eating Sloth,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Joyce Sims,
Yazoo,
Inner City,
Sarah Menescal,
Neu!,
The Gladiators,
Lucky Dragons,
Skarface,
The Music Machine,
the Swans,
Charles Mingus,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rosa Yemen,
Jandek,
Crispian St. Peters,
Siglo XX,
Barbara Tucker,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Remains,
Fat Boys,
The United States of America,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
FM Einheit,
Rapeman,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lindisfarne,
Graham Central Station,
Qualms,
Saccharine Trust,
Unrelated Segments,
Organ,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.