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 Ethiopia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
The Index,
Deakin,
The Cure,
a-ha,
Babytalk,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sixth Finger,
The Tremeloes,
Gichy Dan,
Lou Christie,
Lebanon Hanover,
Mission of Burma,
Freddie Wadling,
Robert Hood,
Pharoah Sanders,
Accadde A,
New York Dolls,
Nik Kershaw,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Move,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ralphi Rosario,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
F. McDonald,
The Fall,
Alphaville,
Brick,
The Walker Brothers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gang Gang Dance,
John Lydon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Khruangbin,
Johnny Clarke,
Aswad,
David McCallum,
The Slackers,
Loose Ends,
Infiniti,
Fatback Band,
Susan Cadogan,
The Saints,
The Beau Brummels,
The United States of America,
Don Cherry,
Sugar Minott,
Bobby Sherman,
Scan 7,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pulsallama,
Joey Negro,
Fat Boys,
LL Cool J,
June Days,
Mad Mike,
Eve St. Jones,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.