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 Korea South and from Madrid.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Khruangbin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Idris Muhammad,
Lalann,
Sugar Minott,
The Kinks,
Easy Going,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Alarm Clocks,
Barbara Tucker,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Zapp,
Spandau Ballet,
The Wake,
Tubeway Army,
Popol Vuh,
June Days,
Lungfish,
Japan,
The Victims,
Harry Pussy,
Joey Negro,
Bizarre Inc.,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Dave Gahan,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marmalade,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Misunderstood,
Quadrant,
Cecil Taylor,
Ultra Naté,
Niagra,
Minutemen,
The Busters,
Symarip,
Henry Cow,
Curtis Mayfield,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Real Kids,
Electric Prunes,
Rhythm & Sound,
T.S.O.L.,
Mo-Dettes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Sonics,
Warren Ellis,
Al Stewart,
The Electric Prunes,
Suburban Knight,
The Dave Clark Five,
Essential Logic,
Goldenarms,
Surgeon,
Swell Maps,
Nas,
Jeff Lynne,
Minor Threat,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.