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 Bahamas and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the theremin 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 Cramps to the electroclash 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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
The Cowsills,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Vladislav Delay,
the Bar-Kays,
New Order,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Oneida,
Scientists,
Minnie Riperton,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Yaz,
Funky Four + One,
Excepter,
Jacques Brel,
The J.B.'s,
Los Fastidios,
Steve Hackett,
Sister Nancy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lebanon Hanover,
Aaron Thompson,
Bang On A Can,
Rotary Connection,
The Victims,
Angry Samoans,
Bill Near,
Kerri Chandler,
World's Most,
The Misunderstood,
Q65,
Brothers Johnson,
Minny Pops,
Hardrive,
Byron Stingily,
The Seeds,
Scion,
The United States of America,
Maurizio,
Black Pus,
Robert Görl,
Severed Heads,
MDC,
Flipper,
Man Eating Sloth,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mission of Burma,
Saccharine Trust,
The Index,
Cybotron,
Icehouse,
Ronan,
The Gap Band,
Radiohead,
Q and Not U,
Liliput,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Five Americans,
Radio Birdman,
The Vogues,
Essential Logic,
Hot Snakes,
Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth.
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.