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 Qatar and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 harpsichord 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 Severed Heads to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Happenings. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
June Days,
Amon Düül II,
Lalo Schifrin,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bad Manners,
Eve St. Jones,
Dorothy Ashby,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Blake Baxter,
Second Layer,
Pharoah Sanders,
Livin' Joy,
David Axelrod,
Gang of Four,
Mantronix,
Iggy Pop,
Suicide,
The Gories,
the Sonics,
Althea and Donna,
Brothers Johnson,
Maleditus Sound,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Technova,
La Düsseldorf,
Bizarre Inc.,
Frankie Knuckles,
Newcleus,
Janne Schatter,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Tremeloes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Model 500,
Absolute Body Control,
Wire,
Fugazi,
L. Decosne,
Sandy B,
The Trojans,
Kas Product,
Guru Guru,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Monolake,
Public Enemy,
Bill Near,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
FM Einheit,
Flamin' Groovies,
T. Rex,
the Association,
A Certain Ratio,
Hashim,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Niagra,
John Cale,
DNA,
Fad Gadget,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Quando Quango,
Popol Vuh,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.