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 Montenegro and from Beijing.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lalo Schifrin to the rock 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 The Monochrome Set. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Soulsonic Force,
Scratch Acid,
Jimmy McGriff,
Spandau Ballet,
EPMD,
Ultravox,
Flipper,
Johnny Osbourne,
Japan,
Vainqueur,
Nation of Ulysses,
Man Eating Sloth,
Q and Not U,
Can,
Index,
Barclay James Harvest,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Searchers,
Ituana,
Neil Young,
Harry Pussy,
Angry Samoans,
Darondo,
Idris Muhammad,
Barrington Levy,
L. Decosne,
The Saints,
Ludus,
Public Image Ltd.,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
This Heat,
Glenn Branca,
Rekid,
Das Ding,
Mary Jane Girls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Nirvana,
Howard Jones,
Blancmange,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Quando Quango,
Lou Reed,
Sex Pistols,
Clear Light,
Terrestrial Tones,
Massinfluence,
Lucky Dragons,
The Motions,
Suburban Knight,
Cluster,
Ornette Coleman,
Sun City Girls,
The Gladiators,
Kas Product,
Dave Gahan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Terry Callier,
Excepter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.