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 Niger and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Henry Cow to the crunk 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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Erykah Badu,
Rhythm & Sound,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Black Moon,
Simply Red,
Ponytail,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lou Reed,
Sonic Youth,
Iggy Pop,
Yazoo,
Marine Girls,
Suburban Knight,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bad Manners,
Drive Like Jehu,
Little Man,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Deadbeat,
Eyeless In Gaza,
A Certain Ratio,
Gang Starr,
Sound Behaviour,
Lucky Dragons,
Eric B and Rakim,
Neil Young,
Tomorrow,
T. Rex,
Roxy Music,
Qualms,
Ten City,
Pylon,
The Slits,
Minnie Riperton,
Anakelly,
Fat Boys,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Agent Orange,
Warsaw,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Doors,
Kenny Larkin,
Angry Samoans,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Audionom,
Shuggie Otis,
Massinfluence,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jeff Lynne,
Sight & Sound,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Grauzone,
Wasted Youth,
Echospace,
Toni Rubio,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities.
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.