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 Nigeria and from New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lungfish to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Kurtis Blow,
Nirvana,
Cal Tjader,
Lakeside,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Parry Music,
Brick,
The New Christs,
Pierre Henry,
Quando Quango,
John Coltrane,
The Residents,
Joe Finger,
The Trojans,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Swans,
Massinfluence,
Maurizio,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Skriet,
Crime,
Alice Coltrane,
Arab on Radar,
Intrusion,
Yellowson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lower 48,
David Bowie,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
AZ,
Mad Mike,
X-Ray Spex,
Desert Stars,
Colin Newman,
Wolf Eyes,
The Doobie Brothers,
Blake Baxter,
the Soft Cell,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Adolescents,
Terry Callier,
Buzzcocks,
Eve St. Jones,
Oneida,
Pere Ubu,
Nils Olav,
Minor Threat,
The Angels of Light,
The Sound,
The Monks,
Gong,
The Divine Comedy,
Fad Gadget,
Rufus Thomas,
The Cramps,
The Barracudas,
Underground Resistance,
Delon & Dalcan,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.