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 Somalia 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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Grey Daturas to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sound Behaviour 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 sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
K-Klass,
Ituana,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Amon Düül,
The Slackers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Accadde A,
Janne Schatter,
Faust,
48th St. Collective,
Rekid,
Tom Boy,
The Victims,
Bauhaus,
Alison Limerick,
Todd Rundgren,
Shoche,
Pere Ubu,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Moss Icon,
Terry Callier,
Fatback Band,
Niagra,
Rotary Connection,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
In Retrospect,
Ultravox,
Sonny Sharrock,
Make Up,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Animal Collective,
Hoover,
Royal Trux,
Max Romeo,
Skarface,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gang Starr,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Cowsills,
Lungfish,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Goldenarms,
Freddie Wadling,
Black Moon,
Cameo,
Alton Ellis,
Peter and Kerry,
The Red Krayola,
The Shadows of Knight,
Half Japanese,
Aural Exciters,
Ten City,
The Gun Club,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Barrington Levy,
World's Most,
Joey Negro,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Velvet Underground,
The Wake,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.