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 Korea South and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The J.B.'s 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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Underground Resistance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scrapy,
Ken Boothe,
Y Pants,
The Shadows of Knight,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ossler,
Yaz,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Harmonia,
Rufus Thomas,
Hot Snakes,
New York Dolls,
Can,
X-Ray Spex,
The Tremeloes,
Tubeway Army,
The Monks,
H. Thieme,
Hashim,
The Mighty Diamonds,
the Slits,
Radiohead,
Arab on Radar,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Magma,
The Evens,
The Slits,
Bobby Womack,
Bush Tetras,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Eurythmics,
The Happenings,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Minny Pops,
Khruangbin,
Slick Rick,
FM Einheit,
The Seeds,
Ronan,
Procol Harum,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Johnny Clarke,
Television,
Lindisfarne,
Eric B and Rakim,
Adolescents,
Con Funk Shun,
Black Sheep,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Smoke,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Radiopuhelimet,
Flash Fearless,
The Gories,
New Order,
Alison Limerick,
The Cramps,
The American Breed,
the Sonics,
Icehouse,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.