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 Brunei and from Woodstock.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 clarinet 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 T.S.O.L. to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
JFA,
Josef K,
Circle Jerks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Niagra,
The Fall,
Suicide,
Talk Talk,
Radio Birdman,
Thompson Twins,
Warsaw,
Jeff Mills,
The Monochrome Set,
The Barracudas,
DJ Style,
Bush Tetras,
Fatback Band,
Lou Reed,
The Grass Roots,
Althea and Donna,
The Gladiators,
DNA,
The Neon Judgement,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Fortunes,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jandek,
Cameo,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Mantronix,
Tears for Fears,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sparks,
Radiohead,
Urselle,
Rhythm & Sound,
Chris Corsano,
The Modern Lovers,
Dark Day,
Jerry's Kids,
Saccharine Trust,
Roger Hodgson,
The Cowsills,
48th St. Collective,
The Trojans,
F. McDonald,
Pussy Galore,
Lyres,
Blake Baxter,
ABBA,
Chris & Cosey,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ronnie Foster,
Porter Ricks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Johnny Clarke,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kerri Chandler,
Black Sheep,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.