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 Cape Verde and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dark Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
The Associates,
Can,
Whodini,
Subhumans,
Country Teasers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pole,
K-Klass,
DNA,
Sun Ra,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Boz Scaggs,
John Holt,
Ultimate Spinach,
Cal Tjader,
Scott Walker,
Gong,
Dark Day,
Main Source,
Absolute Body Control,
Slick Rick,
Pierre Henry,
Tom Boy,
Rites of Spring,
Jimmy McGriff,
China Crisis,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Y Pants,
The Evens,
The Real Kids,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Curtis Mayfield,
Brick,
Bobby Sherman,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sister Nancy,
Mars,
Ken Boothe,
The Index,
New Order,
Electric Prunes,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Das Ding,
Flash Fearless,
Gang Green,
Maleditus Sound,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Gladiators,
Young Marble Giants,
Hardrive,
UT,
the Swans,
Eve St. Jones,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Martian,
The Fugs,
Joe Smooth,
The Slackers,
Wally Richardson,
The Blackbyrds,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.