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 Ghana and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 chamberlin 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 The Invisible to the rock 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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station 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 a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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 Index,
F. McDonald,
The Raincoats,
Quadrant,
Neu!,
Arab on Radar,
Urselle,
Sun City Girls,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Residents,
Soul II Soul,
Au Pairs,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bob Dylan,
MDC,
Eve St. Jones,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Fuzztones,
Kerrie Biddell,
Average White Band,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Black Moon,
Maleditus Sound,
Inner City,
The Alarm Clocks,
Boredoms,
Los Fastidios,
The Detroit Cobras,
UT,
Niagra,
The Barracudas,
Hashim,
Dark Day,
Eli Mardock,
Pussy Galore,
Joe Finger,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Q and Not U,
John Cale,
Laurel Aitken,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rotary Connection,
Eurythmics,
Buzzcocks,
Qualms,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kayak,
The Gap Band,
The United States of America,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Metal Thangz,
June of 44,
The Moleskins,
Pere Ubu,
These Immortal Souls,
Dennis Brown,
X-Ray Spex,
Adolescents,
JFA,
Simply Red,
Fela Kuti,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.