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 Costa Rica and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 chamberlin 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 Albert Ayler to the grime 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 Newcleus. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Larry & the Blue Notes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Severed Heads,
Eurythmics,
The Searchers,
a-ha,
Slick Rick,
Television,
New Age Steppers,
Boz Scaggs,
The Zeros,
Skriet,
Fad Gadget,
David McCallum,
Skarface,
Shuggie Otis,
Ornette Coleman,
Freddie Wadling,
Fatback Band,
X-Ray Spex,
The Gun Club,
Rakim,
Joe Smooth,
Scrapy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Robert Wyatt,
Barbara Tucker,
The Smiths,
Avey Tare,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Crash Course in Science,
the Swans,
The Last Poets,
World's Most,
Audionom,
The Names,
Agitation Free,
Franke,
Young Marble Giants,
Maleditus Sound,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Moody Blues,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
June of 44,
Lyres,
Marc Almond,
Gong,
Jimmy McGriff,
Thompson Twins,
The Monks,
Angry Samoans,
Rekid,
The Red Krayola,
Bill Near,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Todd Terry,
Johnny Clarke,
kango's stein massive,
Josef K,
The Index,
Dead Boys,
Q and Not U,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.