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 Libya and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the snare 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 Cluster to the rap 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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Fluxion,
Lungfish,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Tommy Roe,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Seeds,
Derrick Morgan,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bobby Byrd,
Con Funk Shun,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Drexciya,
R.M.O.,
JFA,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Whodini,
Howard Jones,
Thompson Twins,
Deadbeat,
Kas Product,
Joensuu 1685,
The Pretty Things,
Swans,
The Searchers,
Excepter,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Patti Smith,
The Victims,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Hasil Adkins,
The Black Dice,
Jeff Lynne,
ABC,
The Birthday Party,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ultravox,
New York Dolls,
The Index,
Robert Hood,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Supertramp,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Maurizio,
Man Parrish,
The Detroit Cobras,
Khruangbin,
The Mummies,
Spandau Ballet,
Mo-Dettes,
The Techniques,
Livin' Joy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jeru the Damaja,
Television Personalities,
Basic Channel,
Todd Rundgren,
Rapeman,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ponytail,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
John Holt,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.