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 Dominica and from Spokane.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Dorothy Ashby to the electroclash 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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All FM Einheit 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 disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Swell Maps,
Brothers Johnson,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Depeche Mode,
Glenn Branca,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Flipper,
Malaria!,
The Dirtbombs,
The Moleskins,
Panda Bear,
Accadde A,
Laurel Aitken,
The Associates,
Hot Snakes,
Ossler,
Todd Rundgren,
Scan 7,
X-Ray Spex,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Cowsills,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Monolake,
The Victims,
Chrome,
Eve St. Jones,
Lyres,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Invisible,
Dead Boys,
Ken Boothe,
Matthew Bourne,
Television,
Cymande,
The Move,
Man Parrish,
Angry Samoans,
R.M.O.,
The New Christs,
Black Sheep,
Michelle Simonal,
FM Einheit,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Tubeway Army,
Charles Mingus,
Tomorrow,
Roxy Music,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Sound,
Mad Mike,
Bootsy Collins,
K-Klass,
the Germs,
Tres Demented,
Theoretical Girls,
Iggy Pop,
the Swans,
Hardrive,
La Düsseldorf,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.