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 Antigua and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mumbai.
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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Crispian St. Peters to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All Soul II Soul tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pet Shop Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
Sex Pistols,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Pretty Things,
Eden Ahbez,
Ludus,
Joyce Sims,
Sonny Sharrock,
Grauzone,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sarah Menescal,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Audionom,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Byron Stingily,
Eddi Front,
Charles Mingus,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Yaz,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kerrie Biddell,
Quadrant,
Das Ding,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Janne Schatter,
Kas Product,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
X-Ray Spex,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Shoche,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Malaria!,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Oneida,
Ponytail,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The New Christs,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Pop Group,
Pantytec,
Theoretical Girls,
Liliput,
Joey Negro,
Anthony Braxton,
The Smoke,
Q and Not U,
Section 25,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Piero Umiliani,
Excepter,
Chris & Cosey,
Lakeside,
Eve St. Jones,
Procol Harum,
Terry Callier,
Wolf Eyes,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.