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 Seychelles and from Jakarta.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
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 The American Breed to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Cure. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tubeway Army record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Adolescents,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Harry Pussy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Donny Hathaway,
Tears for Fears,
Alice Coltrane,
Joe Smooth,
Crispian St. Peters,
D'Angelo,
Pantytec,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Fad Gadget,
Ohio Players,
E-Dancer,
Crispy Ambulance,
Inner City,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Glenn Branca,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Normal,
Nas,
Nico,
Lyres,
Yaz,
John Holt,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Supertramp,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ultra Naté,
The Skatalites,
Jacob Miller,
R.M.O.,
Nik Kershaw,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Can,
The Real Kids,
The Mummies,
Easy Going,
Audionom,
K-Klass,
The Move,
Los Fastidios,
Arab on Radar,
Grandmaster Flash,
Cecil Taylor,
The Motions,
Don Cherry,
Marshall Jefferson,
Carl Craig,
Bobby Sherman,
Interpol,
Bad Manners,
Rufus Thomas,
Silicon Teens,
David McCallum,
Lalann,
Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp..
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.