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 Mozambique and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Alice Coltrane to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
CMW,
Tom Boy,
Bronski Beat,
These Immortal Souls,
Eden Ahbez,
Piero Umiliani,
Bauhaus,
The Music Machine,
the Germs,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ornette Coleman,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Black Pus,
The Blues Magoos,
World's Most,
Eve St. Jones,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Radio Birdman,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bill Near,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Sound,
Kayak,
The Grass Roots,
Eric Dolphy,
Ultimate Spinach,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Dawn Penn,
Traffic Nightmare,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Offenders,
Essential Logic,
The Mighty Diamonds,
One Last Wish,
Radiohead,
Von Mondo,
Johnny Clarke,
Nico,
David McCallum,
Bob Dylan,
The Invisible,
Drexciya,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Mojo Men,
Animal Collective,
Marine Girls,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Index,
Alison Limerick,
Bobby Womack,
the Sonics,
Suburban Knight,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Camouflage,
Scrapy,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Monochrome Set,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.