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 Beijing.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Tres Demented 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All One Last Wish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
X-101,
Warsaw,
Subhumans,
Frankie Knuckles,
Reuben Wilson,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sarah Menescal,
Yusef Lateef,
Albert Ayler,
John Coltrane,
Byron Stingily,
Black Flag,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Grauzone,
Average White Band,
The Fall,
The Zeros,
JFA,
June Days,
T. Rex,
Magma,
Agent Orange,
The Searchers,
Mantronix,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Gap Band,
Royal Trux,
Erasure,
Ponytail,
Colin Newman,
Urselle,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Main Source,
Technova,
Easy Going,
Blancmange,
Ohio Players,
Crispy Ambulance,
Deadbeat,
R.M.O.,
Gang Starr,
Pussy Galore,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Johnny Osbourne,
These Immortal Souls,
Sam Rivers,
Second Layer,
Barbara Tucker,
The Happenings,
The Fugs,
Ice-T,
Cameo,
The Kinks,
The Litter,
The Modern Lovers,
Gang Gang Dance,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Tom Boy,
D'Angelo,
Minny Pops,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.