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 Zambia and from Mumbai.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bill Wells to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Nico. All the underground hits.
All Audionom tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Order,
Crispy Ambulance,
Dawn Penn,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Talk Talk,
The Slits,
Alphaville,
The Gladiators,
Underground Resistance,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Andrew Hill,
Suburban Knight,
The Last Poets,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lungfish,
Cheater Slicks,
Smog,
The Star Department,
Gerry Rafferty,
Joyce Sims,
R.M.O.,
Harry Pussy,
Soul II Soul,
Thee Headcoats,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Loose Ends,
Joe Finger,
The Fortunes,
The J.B.'s,
Ludus,
The Gap Band,
Moby Grape,
Patti Smith,
The Neon Judgement,
Piero Umiliani,
Sonic Youth,
Joensuu 1685,
Metal Thangz,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rakim,
Grandmaster Flash,
Black Flag,
Mark Hollis,
Surgeon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Altered Images,
Ronan,
The Stooges,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Buzzcocks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Aloha Tigers,
Hardrive,
Traffic Nightmare,
Crispian St. Peters,
Yellowson,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Standells,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.