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 Seoul.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Last Poets to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dorothy Ashby record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
The Pop Group,
Marc Almond,
The Slits,
David Axelrod,
Scott Walker,
The Detroit Cobras,
D'Angelo,
The Young Rascals,
Sun City Girls,
Joyce Sims,
Icehouse,
Symarip,
Smog,
Skaos,
Thompson Twins,
Arab on Radar,
Bad Manners,
The Star Department,
The Kinks,
The Sonics,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Loose Ends,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Andrew Hill,
Albert Ayler,
This Heat,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gabor Szabo,
Warsaw,
Joe Smooth,
La Düsseldorf,
Stereo Dub,
Deadbeat,
Nick Fraelich,
Pierre Henry,
Minor Threat,
Y Pants,
Clear Light,
R.M.O.,
Jacob Miller,
The Associates,
A Certain Ratio,
Black Moon,
The Skatalites,
The Doors,
Fluxion,
Bobby Womack,
David Bowie,
Mr. Review,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rotary Connection,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Au Pairs,
The Slackers,
Liliput,
Isaac Hayes,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Oneida,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.