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 Algeria and from Paris.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Peter & Gordon to the grunge 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lucky Dragons record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Girls At Our Best!,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Saints,
Drexciya,
Rites of Spring,
Lyres,
Lou Christie,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Walker Brothers,
Depeche Mode,
Camberwell Now,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Velvet Underground,
Hot Snakes,
Prince Buster,
The Mojo Men,
Tres Demented,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Dead C,
Slave,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Das Ding,
Eden Ahbez,
Lalann,
Scrapy,
Excepter,
Pagans,
Lindisfarne,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Black Moon,
Smog,
Ornette Coleman,
Goldenarms,
Whodini,
Essential Logic,
Sun City Girls,
Anakelly,
The Count Five,
Popol Vuh,
Rekid,
OOIOO,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Dave Clark Five,
Albert Ayler,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Carl Craig,
Lightning Bolt,
The Techniques,
Symarip,
Andrew Hill,
Joyce Sims,
the Germs,
Electric Prunes,
Lower 48,
Wings,
Wally Richardson,
Yellowson,
Funky Four + One,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.