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 Lebanon 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Scion 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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim 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 güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
The United States of America,
Khruangbin,
One Last Wish,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pagans,
The Music Machine,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jeff Mills,
Sandy B,
Sex Pistols,
Underground Resistance,
David Bowie,
Procol Harum,
Kurtis Blow,
Pierre Henry,
The Tremeloes,
Peter & Gordon,
Glenn Branca,
Ossler,
Masters at Work,
The Cramps,
Robert Hood,
Unrelated Segments,
Popol Vuh,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Gories,
Hardrive,
Subhumans,
June Days,
The Techniques,
Ituana,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sam Rivers,
Goldenarms,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Grauzone,
The Five Americans,
Arthur Verocai,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Fortunes,
The Golliwogs,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ice-T,
Colin Newman,
Nirvana,
Second Layer,
Ludus,
Black Sheep,
Lou Christie,
John Coltrane,
Ronan,
Rufus Thomas,
Sarah Menescal,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tim Buckley,
Television,
Spoonie Gee,
The Gun Club,
Tears for Fears,
Babytalk,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.