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 Kyrgyzstan and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 snare 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 Ornette Coleman to the funk 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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Toasters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Bob Dylan,
Roger Hodgson,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
DNA,
Pantytec,
Unrelated Segments,
The Monks,
Jacques Brel,
Brand Nubian,
Roy Ayers,
the Bar-Kays,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Barrington Levy,
Minor Threat,
Robert Görl,
The Standells,
Pharoah Sanders,
Brick,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Deadbeat,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Count Five,
The Kinks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Golliwogs,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Beau Brummels,
John Lydon,
Sonic Youth,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Henry Cow,
Curtis Mayfield,
Jeff Lynne,
Nico,
The American Breed,
Scientists,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sly & The Family Stone,
kango's stein massive,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Livin' Joy,
Warsaw,
Soul Sonic Force,
Fela Kuti,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Von Mondo,
Radiohead,
David Bowie,
Wire,
Bobby Sherman,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Michelle Simonal,
Alphaville,
Rekid,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Frankie Knuckles,
Roxette,
Eurythmics,
Dennis Brown,
Minny Pops,
Barclay James Harvest,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.