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 Afghanistan and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Monolake to the jazz 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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All Nas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Reuben Wilson,
The Sonics,
The Selecter,
Deadbeat,
EPMD,
Simply Red,
Tomorrow,
48th St. Collective,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
the Human League,
Circle Jerks,
Essential Logic,
U.S. Maple,
Sonny Sharrock,
Smog,
Bad Manners,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Count Five,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jeff Mills,
Soft Machine,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Golliwogs,
Accadde A,
The Litter,
Easy Going,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kurtis Blow,
Eddi Front,
T. Rex,
The Gun Club,
The Knickerbockers,
Bauhaus,
Electric Prunes,
Grey Daturas,
Cybotron,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Little Man,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Popol Vuh,
Matthew Halsall,
Isaac Hayes,
The Vogues,
The Real Kids,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Brand Nubian,
the Fania All-Stars,
Nils Olav,
Basic Channel,
ABC,
Ultravox,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ultra Naté,
Leonard Cohen,
Sam Rivers,
Minutemen,
Stiv Bators,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.