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 Kuwait and from Lyon.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Houston.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Dead Boys to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Doors. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
The Searchers,
Reuben Wilson,
Joensuu 1685,
Lungfish,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Rites of Spring,
Sugar Minott,
Index,
Sexual Harrassment,
Scratch Acid,
Moby Grape,
Bush Tetras,
Scrapy,
The Star Department,
Pere Ubu,
Moebius,
Cymande,
Duran Duran,
Danielle Patucci,
the Soft Cell,
Procol Harum,
Urselle,
Pole,
Charles Mingus,
Harmonia,
The Five Americans,
The Durutti Column,
The Gap Band,
Saccharine Trust,
The Dave Clark Five,
David McCallum,
Tom Boy,
Visage,
Faust,
Swell Maps,
Arcadia,
X-101,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Fatback Band,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Accadde A,
Joy Division,
Robert Wyatt,
Wings,
The Invisible,
Livin' Joy,
Fela Kuti,
Peter and Kerry,
Pylon,
Gang Gang Dance,
Talk Talk,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Wake,
Robert Görl,
This Heat,
Barbara Tucker,
Sonic Youth,
the Human League,
The Techniques,
Black Sheep,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.