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 Sri Lanka and from Manila.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the rap 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 American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
The Invisible,
Buzzcocks,
Smog,
Jeff Lynne,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Piero Umiliani,
Gil Scott Heron,
Drexciya,
Unwound,
The Red Krayola,
Khruangbin,
Nik Kershaw,
One Last Wish,
Sun Ra,
Can,
Ten City,
Joey Negro,
Roxette,
Suburban Knight,
Harry Pussy,
The Sonics,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Alison Limerick,
Maleditus Sound,
The Evens,
Big Daddy Kane,
David Axelrod,
Index,
Isaac Hayes,
the Normal,
Joe Smooth,
Infiniti,
Gabor Szabo,
Rufus Thomas,
Organ,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Motorama,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Dirtbombs,
Q65,
Camouflage,
The Names,
Mr. Review,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Intrusion,
Toni Rubio,
Lou Reed,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Five Americans,
Bootsy Collins,
Don Cherry,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gong,
Bauhaus,
John Cale,
Minor Threat,
Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel.
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.