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 Philippines and from Jakarta.
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 Beijing and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Moody Blues to the grime 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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Subhumans,
Bush Tetras,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Josef K,
Deepchord,
Sexual Harrassment,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Guru Guru,
The Black Dice,
T.S.O.L.,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nas,
Aaron Thompson,
Smog,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Derrick May,
The Last Poets,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Remains,
Black Moon,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tim Buckley,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Urselle,
The Associates,
Stiv Bators,
The Modern Lovers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mad Mike,
Ossler,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rites of Spring,
Blossom Toes,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ultimate Spinach,
Television,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Eden Ahbez,
Excepter,
The Happenings,
Panda Bear,
Marcia Griffiths,
James White and The Blacks,
Skaos,
The New Christs,
Barry Ungar,
The Human League,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Doors,
cv313,
Bill Wells,
Eve St. Jones,
Moby Grape,
Rosa Yemen,
Derrick Morgan,
Loose Ends,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fela Kuti,
Albert Ayler,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.