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 Venezuela and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Gang of Four to the rock 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alphaville 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bauhaus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Last Poets,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Eddi Front,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Doobie Brothers,
Crooked Eye,
The Smiths,
Harmonia,
Minor Threat,
Cecil Taylor,
John Holt,
Surgeon,
Bobby Byrd,
In Retrospect,
Joe Smooth,
a-ha,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Monks,
Charles Mingus,
Darondo,
The Kinks,
New Age Steppers,
Make Up,
DJ Sneak,
The Saints,
Aaron Thompson,
The Litter,
Yellowson,
The Flesh Eaters,
Los Fastidios,
Fugazi,
The Fuzztones,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tim Buckley,
Deepchord,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
June of 44,
Swell Maps,
The Five Americans,
Second Layer,
Porter Ricks,
David Bowie,
Davy DMX,
Judy Mowatt,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Circle Jerks,
Rites of Spring,
John Lydon,
The Barracudas,
Brass Construction,
ABBA,
Patti Smith,
Livin' Joy,
David Axelrod,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Blake Baxter,
Barbara Tucker,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.