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 Botswana and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Golliwogs to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Derrick May. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Duran Duran record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Drexciya,
Thee Headcoats,
The Kinks,
Agent Orange,
Lucky Dragons,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bobby Byrd,
Idris Muhammad,
David Bowie,
The United States of America,
Swell Maps,
Young Marble Giants,
Smog,
Maleditus Sound,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Altered Images,
Pussy Galore,
Camouflage,
Lightning Bolt,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
KRS-One,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Alice Coltrane,
Aloha Tigers,
Metal Thangz,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nico,
Mr. Review,
Hot Snakes,
Radio Birdman,
James White and The Blacks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
ABBA,
Aural Exciters,
K-Klass,
The Count Five,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kurtis Blow,
The Sonics,
H. Thieme,
D'Angelo,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rites of Spring,
Black Bananas,
Donny Hathaway,
Boz Scaggs,
Johnny Clarke,
Gichy Dan,
Drive Like Jehu,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
kango's stein massive,
The Misunderstood,
Darondo,
The Move,
Monks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pulsallama,
This Heat,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
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.