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 Sudan and from Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 rhodes 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 The United States of America to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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?
The Star Department,
Heaven 17,
Max Romeo,
Scion,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Youth Brigade,
Kenny Larkin,
The Real Kids,
ABC,
Michelle Simonal,
KRS-One,
The Pop Group,
Motorama,
Ultra Naté,
Whodini,
Chris & Cosey,
The Names,
New Age Steppers,
The Slackers,
Patti Smith,
The Standells,
Soul Sonic Force,
Aural Exciters,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Glenn Branca,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Main Source,
Vladislav Delay,
Wolf Eyes,
Ludus,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Shadows of Knight,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Colin Newman,
Y Pants,
Clear Light,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bill Near,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Johnny Clarke,
Silicon Teens,
Thompson Twins,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Urselle,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ice-T,
Alice Coltrane,
Al Stewart,
Howard Jones,
The Sound,
The Gladiators,
the Human League,
Negative Approach,
The Wake,
Goldenarms,
Don Cherry,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.