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 Australia and from Delhi.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gang of Four to the funk 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 the Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Lynne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Siglo XX,
the Association,
Bobby Womack,
This Heat,
Los Fastidios,
Brass Construction,
The Music Machine,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rod Modell,
L. Decosne,
The Doors,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Durutti Column,
Radio Birdman,
Interpol,
The Birthday Party,
Oblivians,
Joensuu 1685,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sarah Menescal,
Andrew Hill,
Franke,
The Buckinghams,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
In Retrospect,
Skarface,
The Barracudas,
Lyres,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lungfish,
Sugar Minott,
Au Pairs,
Nas,
Sexual Harrassment,
Maleditus Sound,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Deadbeat,
Yazoo,
The Slackers,
The New Christs,
Yusef Lateef,
Eric Copeland,
Arcadia,
Don Cherry,
Scott Walker,
the Swans,
Guru Guru,
Swans,
Von Mondo,
Icehouse,
Anakelly,
Intrusion,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Frankie Knuckles,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fluxion,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.