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 Finland and from Cairo.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Terrestrial Tones to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway 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 a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Flesh Eaters,
X-101,
Mad Mike,
Mr. Review,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Inner City,
Bauhaus,
Dave Gahan,
Cecil Taylor,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rapeman,
the Bar-Kays,
Harry Pussy,
Minny Pops,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Man Eating Sloth,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jandek,
Aswad,
Kurtis Blow,
Lou Christie,
Aloha Tigers,
Public Image Ltd.,
Junior Murvin,
Johnny Osbourne,
Nik Kershaw,
Bootsy Collins,
Joyce Sims,
Brothers Johnson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Doobie Brothers,
K-Klass,
Ponytail,
The Monochrome Set,
Whodini,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Robert Wyatt,
Toni Rubio,
David Bowie,
Black Pus,
Gang Starr,
Jerry's Kids,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Mojo Men,
The Remains,
Television Personalities,
Metal Thangz,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Litter,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Howard Jones,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Names,
Wolf Eyes,
The Sonics,
Kerri Chandler,
Nation of Ulysses,
Susan Cadogan,
Hashim,
Neu!,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.