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 Slovakia and from London.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Salvador.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 New York Dolls to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All Dawn Penn tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA 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 sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Pantaleimon,
Andrew Hill,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Standells,
Minutemen,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Fugs,
Fela Kuti,
Harry Pussy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Theoretical Girls,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bootsy Collins,
The Seeds,
Arcadia,
Mission of Burma,
Easy Going,
Matthew Bourne,
Camberwell Now,
Stereo Dub,
Joensuu 1685,
Eden Ahbez,
The Real Kids,
These Immortal Souls,
Royal Trux,
FM Einheit,
Lebanon Hanover,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Anthony Braxton,
Bronski Beat,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Negative Approach,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Rhythm & Sound,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Suicide,
Severed Heads,
Amon Düül II,
CMW,
Alice Coltrane,
Stetsasonic,
The Invisible,
Cal Tjader,
Jacob Miller,
Aural Exciters,
Ralphi Rosario,
Archie Shepp,
Connie Case,
The Beau Brummels,
Tomorrow,
Robert Görl,
Boz Scaggs,
Model 500,
Grauzone,
Ten City,
Yellowson,
Erasure,
Terrestrial Tones,
Hardrive,
Pet Shop Boys,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.