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 Papua New Guinea and from New York.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Erykah Badu to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
Sex Pistols,
Rakim,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The American Breed,
Liliput,
Throbbing Gristle,
Tears for Fears,
Eden Ahbez,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bronski Beat,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
U.S. Maple,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Q and Not U,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Eric Dolphy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Hasil Adkins,
Television,
Theoretical Girls,
Nation of Ulysses,
PIL,
Public Enemy,
Soft Machine,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
June Days,
the Fania All-Stars,
Maurizio,
Brothers Johnson,
David Axelrod,
Amon Düül,
Inner City,
Al Stewart,
E-Dancer,
Excepter,
Gabor Szabo,
Faraquet,
Cymande,
Aloha Tigers,
Drexciya,
The Durutti Column,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Royal Trux,
Bizarre Inc.,
Pylon,
Mark Hollis,
Bang On A Can,
Animal Collective,
Neil Young,
Radio Birdman,
Harry Pussy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bluetip,
Ossler,
10cc,
Minutemen,
MC5,
Make Up,
Terry Callier,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.