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 Burundi and from Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb 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 Throbbing Gristle to the jazz 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 The Associates. All the underground hits.
All Hashim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
Monks,
Marine Girls,
Pierre Henry,
The Electric Prunes,
Young Marble Giants,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pharoah Sanders,
Chris & Cosey,
Anthony Braxton,
Scion,
The Walker Brothers,
Iggy Pop,
Scan 7,
Bronski Beat,
Dual Sessions,
Davy DMX,
Peter & Gordon,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
B.T. Express,
Technova,
The Blues Magoos,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Echospace,
Rekid,
Rhythm & Sound,
Liliput,
Tommy Roe,
John Holt,
The Black Dice,
Zero Boys,
The Stooges,
Black Sheep,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Quadrant,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jacques Brel,
the Normal,
Alison Limerick,
the Bar-Kays,
Andrew Hill,
Soulsonic Force,
Icehouse,
Wolf Eyes,
Jawbox,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kurtis Blow,
Bobby Womack,
Harmonia,
Au Pairs,
Chrome,
Ossler,
Camouflage,
The Residents,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Association,
The Gap Band,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.