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 Albania and from Beijing.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tubeway Army record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Moebius,
The Doobie Brothers,
Excepter,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Slits,
Rites of Spring,
Eden Ahbez,
Hashim,
Blake Baxter,
Interpol,
the Sonics,
Rod Modell,
Pantaleimon,
Pet Shop Boys,
Metal Thangz,
F. McDonald,
Echospace,
Man Parrish,
The Smoke,
Black Flag,
Idris Muhammad,
DJ Style,
The Monks,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Beau Brummels,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Magma,
Radio Birdman,
Bluetip,
MC5,
Absolute Body Control,
Deepchord,
The Misunderstood,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Seeds,
Tres Demented,
Newcleus,
Minor Threat,
Con Funk Shun,
Rhythm & Sound,
Royal Trux,
The Searchers,
Adolescents,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Cal Tjader,
Eurythmics,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Quadrant,
Eli Mardock,
Mission of Burma,
Quantec,
The Sonics,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Faraquet,
Lower 48,
Rosa Yemen,
Henry Cow,
Glambeats Corp.,
David Bowie,
Lindisfarne,
KRS-One,
The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites.
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.