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 India and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Robert Hood to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Negative Approach,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
B.T. Express,
Bang On A Can,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kevin Saunderson,
Peter & Gordon,
The Birthday Party,
Ten City,
Deakin,
Steve Hackett,
Eric B and Rakim,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
E-Dancer,
Albert Ayler,
Kas Product,
Essential Logic,
Sam Rivers,
Dennis Brown,
Grey Daturas,
John Holt,
Loose Ends,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Vogues,
Roxette,
Wolf Eyes,
Technova,
the Normal,
Chris & Cosey,
Jeff Mills,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Tears for Fears,
Inner City,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Gun Club,
Lucky Dragons,
Patti Smith,
Archie Shepp,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Saccharine Trust,
The Music Machine,
the Bar-Kays,
Bobby Womack,
Gerry Rafferty,
Newcleus,
Mr. Review,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Yellowson,
Ponytail,
Wasted Youth,
Alice Coltrane,
Skaos,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marshall Jefferson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lou Christie,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pet Shop Boys,
Harmonia,
Pantaleimon,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.