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 Israel and from Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin 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 Jacques Brel to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Remains. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Ultra Naté,
The Moody Blues,
Sex Pistols,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Oneida,
John Cale,
Intrusion,
The Standells,
Amon Düül,
Jandek,
Can,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Victims,
The American Breed,
Lou Christie,
Aswad,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Vainqueur,
Rosa Yemen,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jerry's Kids,
The Kinks,
The Tremeloes,
Throbbing Gristle,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Robert Görl,
Sexual Harrassment,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Joe Smooth,
Banda Bassotti,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Golliwogs,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Swans,
Max Romeo,
Nico,
Black Bananas,
Panda Bear,
Brass Construction,
Silicon Teens,
The Blues Magoos,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Underground Resistance,
Moebius,
Graham Central Station,
Connie Case,
Camouflage,
Gang Green,
Mandrill,
Scott Walker,
Boredoms,
World's Most,
John Foxx,
Rapeman,
Chris Corsano,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Glenn Branca,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Bar-Kays,
The Wake,
Hasil Adkins,
Maurizio,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.