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 Kosovo and from Tehran.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 sitar 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 Pierre Henry to the electroclash 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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kool Moe Dee,
Faraquet,
Minnie Riperton,
Blake Baxter,
Reagan Youth,
Pulsallama,
Kas Product,
Quando Quango,
Harry Pussy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Aswad,
Hot Snakes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kaleidoscope,
Con Funk Shun,
Suicide,
The Monochrome Set,
Swans,
the Normal,
PIL,
Scientists,
Sexual Harrassment,
Goldenarms,
Howard Jones,
Babytalk,
Lindisfarne,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Hashim,
Lungfish,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pantytec,
48th St. Collective,
Smog,
Popol Vuh,
Minutemen,
David Axelrod,
Joy Division,
Marshall Jefferson,
One Last Wish,
The Human League,
Fela Kuti,
Dennis Brown,
Bizarre Inc.,
Nirvana,
Mars,
Cameo,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
New York Dolls,
Gastr Del Sol,
Monolake,
Hoover,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Magma,
The Dave Clark Five,
Nico,
Aloha Tigers,
Funkadelic,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.