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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Mumbai.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Michael McDonald 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 Suicide to the crunk 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 The Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 rhodes and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Idris Muhammad,
Organ,
The Star Department,
Franke,
Sam Rivers,
Sun City Girls,
Loose Ends,
Slick Rick,
Tubeway Army,
The J.B.'s,
The Gun Club,
Kenny Larkin,
Letta Mbulu,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Happenings,
Man Eating Sloth,
Roger Hodgson,
Anthony Braxton,
Morten Harket,
Bobby Womack,
June of 44,
Young Marble Giants,
Bad Manners,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Aaron Thompson,
Excepter,
Todd Rundgren,
Robert Hood,
Erasure,
Janne Schatter,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gichy Dan,
The Offenders,
Donny Hathaway,
Duran Duran,
Maurizio,
ABC,
Ronan,
Deepchord,
Jeff Lynne,
Harpers Bizarre,
Tropical Tobacco,
Hashim,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
In Retrospect,
Alphaville,
The Beau Brummels,
Leonard Cohen,
Black Pus,
The Fall,
Colin Newman,
The Fire Engines,
Pantaleimon,
Visage,
Black Sheep,
The Buckinghams,
James White and The Blacks,
The Selecter,
Sight & Sound,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.