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 Nigeria and from Bremen.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bill Wells to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
The Fall,
Cybotron,
Suicide,
Rekid,
The Saints,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Darondo,
X-101,
Robert Wyatt,
Graham Central Station,
The Dirtbombs,
Slick Rick,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sun City Girls,
The American Breed,
Iggy Pop,
The Associates,
Easy Going,
The United States of America,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pulsallama,
Jacques Brel,
Whodini,
The Gories,
Pagans,
Groovy Waters,
Scratch Acid,
Ituana,
Shoche,
Ponytail,
Gichy Dan,
Bad Manners,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Standells,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cluster,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Skatalites,
Ohio Players,
Faraquet,
Boz Scaggs,
Fatback Band,
John Lydon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Wire,
kango's stein massive,
Make Up,
Alton Ellis,
Wasted Youth,
Skarface,
The Fugs,
The Offenders,
Nick Fraelich,
The Remains,
Charles Mingus,
Arcadia,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ossler,
MC5,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.