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 Canada and from Cairo.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 sitar 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 FM Einheit to the grime 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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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?
DJ Style,
Jeff Mills,
Arab on Radar,
Alice Coltrane,
The Gun Club,
John Holt,
Wolf Eyes,
The Monochrome Set,
LL Cool J,
The Black Dice,
Blossom Toes,
The Modern Lovers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gang Green,
Mark Hollis,
The Evens,
The Mojo Men,
The Dead C,
Deadbeat,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lindisfarne,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Zapp,
Jimmy McGriff,
Slave,
Chris Corsano,
Nils Olav,
Von Mondo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Sound,
Bobby Womack,
the Swans,
AZ,
Model 500,
Con Funk Shun,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Walker Brothers,
D'Angelo,
Half Japanese,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ken Boothe,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Derrick Morgan,
The Misunderstood,
Harmonia,
Anakelly,
Sun Ra,
Hasil Adkins,
Franke,
Interpol,
Bootsy Collins,
Derrick May,
Pantaleimon,
The Slackers,
Nik Kershaw,
The Trojans,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.