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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Seoul.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 marimba 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 Nick Fraelich to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Mad Mike,
The Residents,
Royal Trux,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Marc Almond,
Bobby Hutcherson,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Black Flag,
The Zeros,
The Birthday Party,
Silicon Teens,
Minutemen,
Unwound,
Black Moon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Brick,
The Busters,
Glenn Branca,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Black Dice,
Piero Umiliani,
The Selecter,
A Certain Ratio,
Tubeway Army,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Outsiders,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Urselle,
Man Parrish,
The Pop Group,
Surgeon,
Bobby Womack,
the Germs,
Janne Schatter,
Grandmaster Flash,
Motorama,
The New Christs,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tommy Roe,
The Gun Club,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ohio Players,
Half Japanese,
Von Mondo,
Swell Maps,
Johnny Osbourne,
Amon Düül,
Loose Ends,
Kerri Chandler,
Inner City,
JFA,
Depeche Mode,
Sexual Harrassment,
Alice Coltrane,
Ossler,
Michelle Simonal,
48th St. Collective,
Rekid,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.