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 Kiribati and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Pantaleimon to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Order record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Mad Mike,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ludus,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Johnny Clarke,
The Names,
Magma,
Scan 7,
The Evens,
Barbara Tucker,
Swell Maps,
Easy Going,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gerry Rafferty,
Scratch Acid,
Alphaville,
EPMD,
MDC,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Masters at Work,
The Barracudas,
Yusef Lateef,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fad Gadget,
Procol Harum,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Simply Red,
Peter and Kerry,
Patti Smith,
Aaron Thompson,
Robert Görl,
Negative Approach,
Throbbing Gristle,
LL Cool J,
Liliput,
Janne Schatter,
Fear,
Pere Ubu,
CMW,
Glenn Branca,
AZ,
Man Eating Sloth,
Tommy Roe,
Ituana,
Sandy B,
the Association,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Agitation Free,
Derrick Morgan,
F. McDonald,
The Neon Judgement,
Half Japanese,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Black Dice,
Mark Hollis,
The Standells,
Pussy Galore,
Reagan Youth,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.