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 East Timor and from Lille.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 theremin 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 Avey Tare to the crunk 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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alton Ellis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
EPMD,
Spandau Ballet,
Main Source,
Newcleus,
FM Einheit,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Zeros,
The Golliwogs,
The Gories,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Barbara Tucker,
Black Bananas,
Stereo Dub,
June Days,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Litter,
Niagra,
The United States of America,
Bill Near,
Suburban Knight,
Rakim,
Eve St. Jones,
the Human League,
Black Pus,
Donald Byrd,
Letta Mbulu,
Prince Buster,
B.T. Express,
Skriet,
Vladislav Delay,
Bobbi Humphrey,
David Axelrod,
Ice-T,
These Immortal Souls,
Barry Ungar,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Scott Walker,
H. Thieme,
Patti Smith,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Darondo,
Deadbeat,
Wire,
Joe Smooth,
Crash Course in Science,
The Blackbyrds,
Tubeway Army,
Jeru the Damaja,
Q and Not U,
Half Japanese,
Albert Ayler,
Pussy Galore,
John Cale,
Underground Resistance,
Piero Umiliani,
Negative Approach,
Tropical Tobacco,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Offenders,
Juan Atkins,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.