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 the UAE and from Lyon.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Maurizio to the funk 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 Patti Smith. All the underground hits.
All Model 500 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 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 mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Judy Mowatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiohead,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ossler,
Sex Pistols,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marvin Gaye,
Pere Ubu,
Idris Muhammad,
Big Daddy Kane,
Anthony Braxton,
Kerrie Biddell,
Suicide,
Alton Ellis,
Minny Pops,
Drive Like Jehu,
Pharoah Sanders,
Black Bananas,
Qualms,
Whodini,
Gang Starr,
Aloha Tigers,
The Slackers,
Yazoo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rosa Yemen,
U.S. Maple,
Soft Cell,
Wally Richardson,
The Victims,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Aaron Thompson,
Wolf Eyes,
Underground Resistance,
The Toasters,
Lower 48,
Massinfluence,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Human League,
The Zeros,
The Star Department,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sandy B,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pylon,
Dawn Penn,
Ralphi Rosario,
Henry Cow,
Maurizio,
Soul Sonic Force,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Boz Scaggs,
Simply Red,
Negative Approach,
FM Einheit,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fear,
a-ha,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Thee Headcoats,
Barry Ungar,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.