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 Belize and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ultra Naté to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Average White Band,
Rekid,
PIL,
Deakin,
Pylon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ludus,
Jerry's Kids,
Kaleidoscope,
Hot Snakes,
Spoonie Gee,
Joe Finger,
The Saints,
Smog,
New Order,
Sparks,
Cluster,
the Association,
Wire,
The Angels of Light,
Blancmange,
The Velvet Underground,
Sam Rivers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pulsallama,
A Certain Ratio,
The Sonics,
Marcia Griffiths,
Junior Murvin,
OOIOO,
Parry Music,
Ultra Naté,
The Litter,
The Tremeloes,
Rod Modell,
Bluetip,
KRS-One,
Bill Near,
Jacques Brel,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mantronix,
Johnny Osbourne,
FM Einheit,
The Sound,
Faraquet,
John Lydon,
Max Romeo,
Terry Callier,
Lucky Dragons,
Agitation Free,
The Techniques,
Scrapy,
Leonard Cohen,
Susan Cadogan,
Tom Boy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.