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 Fiji and from Woodstock.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Leaves to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Dorothy Ashby,
The United States of America,
Joyce Sims,
Whodini,
John Coltrane,
Gil Scott Heron,
Reagan Youth,
Magazine,
Don Cherry,
Silicon Teens,
Symarip,
Section 25,
Neil Young,
Radiohead,
Skarface,
Jandek,
Scientists,
Television,
Tres Demented,
Siglo XX,
E-Dancer,
The Fire Engines,
Average White Band,
The Toasters,
the Swans,
Lindisfarne,
Popol Vuh,
T. Rex,
The Star Department,
Ten City,
Crash Course in Science,
Yusef Lateef,
8 Eyed Spy,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Junior Murvin,
Harmonia,
Jesper Dahlback,
Erykah Badu,
The Smoke,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Golliwogs,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lucky Dragons,
Massinfluence,
Boredoms,
Dennis Brown,
The Move,
Mad Mike,
Robert Hood,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Bar-Kays,
Franke,
Nation of Ulysses,
In Retrospect,
Chrome,
Joe Smooth,
Ossler,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Brothers Johnson,
The Count Five,
Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry.
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.