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 Romania and from Philadelphia.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Fuzztones to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Doors,
The Litter,
Faust,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Moby Grape,
Black Pus,
Adolescents,
Drive Like Jehu,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Donny Hathaway,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Gun Club,
Jeff Mills,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Buzzcocks,
Prince Buster,
The Move,
Eve St. Jones,
Roy Ayers,
Maleditus Sound,
Peter and Kerry,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Piero Umiliani,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Electric Prunes,
Inner City,
Scratch Acid,
Boogie Down Productions,
K-Klass,
Sound Behaviour,
MDC,
Lucky Dragons,
Joe Finger,
D'Angelo,
David Bowie,
Todd Rundgren,
Gang Starr,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Country Joe & The Fish,
David McCallum,
Oblivians,
Easy Going,
the Soft Cell,
Nation of Ulysses,
Henry Cow,
Chris Corsano,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Residents,
Mantronix,
Icehouse,
10cc,
Barry Ungar,
CMW,
Flamin' Groovies,
Glenn Branca,
The Invisible,
Blake Baxter,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.