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 Cuba and from Stockholm.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 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 Chris Corsano to the funk 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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All Monolake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Manfred Mann's Earth Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
The Birthday Party,
Arab on Radar,
Sexual Harrassment,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Mars,
the Slits,
The Skatalites,
X-101,
The American Breed,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Deakin,
Arcadia,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
H. Thieme,
Pantytec,
Matthew Bourne,
Rakim,
Flamin' Groovies,
Make Up,
Arthur Verocai,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Slave,
Kas Product,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ice-T,
Circle Jerks,
L. Decosne,
Alice Coltrane,
Skaos,
The Offenders,
These Immortal Souls,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Dark Day,
Drive Like Jehu,
Desert Stars,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Grass Roots,
Outsiders,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Can,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Jerry's Kids,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The United States of America,
Roxy Music,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sugar Minott,
James White and The Blacks,
Janne Schatter,
The Pretty Things,
Fugazi,
Derrick May,
Blancmange,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Dead Boys,
Tears for Fears,
Ornette Coleman,
Idris Muhammad,
Thee Headcoats,
Bauhaus,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.