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 Chad and from Lyon.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Blues Magoos to the electroclash 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 Isaac Hayes. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q65 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Ken Boothe,
Black Flag,
The Busters,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Neon Judgement,
Howard Jones,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Procol Harum,
Lyres,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Gun Club,
B.T. Express,
Soulsonic Force,
The Red Krayola,
Mr. Review,
Hoover,
The Divine Comedy,
The Dave Clark Five,
Colin Newman,
Basic Channel,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mo-Dettes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Yaz,
Curtis Mayfield,
Juan Atkins,
Grandmaster Flash,
Desert Stars,
La Düsseldorf,
Babytalk,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Bar-Kays,
Malaria!,
Freddie Wadling,
The Music Machine,
Letta Mbulu,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Stooges,
the Slits,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Mad Mike,
The Pop Group,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Matthew Bourne,
Oneida,
Whodini,
Urselle,
Franke,
Rekid,
Hasil Adkins,
Yusef Lateef,
Model 500,
Zapp,
The Walker Brothers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fugazi,
Faust,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.