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 Georgia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 snare 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 Q65 to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Finger,
Lou Reed,
Colin Newman,
The Stooges,
Roxette,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sällskapet,
Chris & Cosey,
Camouflage,
H. Thieme,
Aswad,
Absolute Body Control,
The Birthday Party,
Funkadelic,
Johnny Osbourne,
Josef K,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gang of Four,
Alphaville,
Mr. Review,
The Moody Blues,
Crooked Eye,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Peter & Gordon,
Parry Music,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Detroit Cobras,
10cc,
Glenn Branca,
Yazoo,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cluster,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Wings,
Dawn Penn,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Vogues,
Inner City,
LL Cool J,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Franke,
Quadrant,
Eric Dolphy,
The Names,
The Pretty Things,
Alice Coltrane,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Organ,
The Mojo Men,
Jacob Miller,
Tomorrow,
Avey Tare,
Piero Umiliani,
the Sonics,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gang Gang Dance,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tom Boy,
Kas Product,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.