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 Guyana and from Madrid.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Tehran.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Black Dice to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liaisons Dangereuses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
Wolf Eyes,
Marc Almond,
Boogie Down Productions,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Happenings,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Selecter,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Crash Course in Science,
Gong,
Marine Girls,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Babytalk,
Silicon Teens,
The Sound,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gabor Szabo,
Bobby Byrd,
The Busters,
E-Dancer,
Eddi Front,
Dead Boys,
Sarah Menescal,
Pylon,
Spandau Ballet,
The Invisible,
Desert Stars,
The Cure,
Qualms,
Grauzone,
Godley & Creme,
The Neon Judgement,
Crispy Ambulance,
Q and Not U,
Swell Maps,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ronnie Foster,
Johnny Osbourne,
Franke,
Grandmaster Flash,
Crime,
The Martian,
Terry Callier,
Ice-T,
John Cale,
48th St. Collective,
the Association,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
One Last Wish,
Ken Boothe,
Audionom,
Soft Machine,
Cheater Slicks,
Mo-Dettes,
The Kinks,
Sixth Finger,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.