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 Latvia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 spring reverb 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 Altered Images to the grunge 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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drive Like Jehu 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Art Ensemble Of Chicago record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
The Divine Comedy,
Sandy B,
Juan Atkins,
Reuben Wilson,
Mad Mike,
Derrick Morgan,
Das Ding,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jesper Dahlback,
Model 500,
Essential Logic,
Hot Snakes,
Au Pairs,
Soul II Soul,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Suicide,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Saccharine Trust,
Nick Fraelich,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Japan,
Little Man,
The Busters,
Half Japanese,
Drexciya,
The Blues Magoos,
Rekid,
Monks,
Animal Collective,
Sonny Sharrock,
June Days,
Chris Corsano,
Television,
Groovy Waters,
Yellowson,
Masters at Work,
The Mojo Men,
The Shadows of Knight,
Shoche,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Bananas,
X-Ray Spex,
Alton Ellis,
Robert Görl,
Average White Band,
OOIOO,
Interpol,
Kaleidoscope,
John Holt,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Tremeloes,
Quadrant,
Yazoo,
Slave,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Depeche Mode,
LL Cool J,
The Durutti Column,
Maurizio,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.