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 Tokyo.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Gories,
Q65,
Grandmaster Flash,
The United States of America,
Black Moon,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Divine Comedy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Dirtbombs,
Television,
Pagans,
Marvin Gaye,
Crooked Eye,
Oneida,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Misunderstood,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kayak,
Nick Fraelich,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Barbara Tucker,
Royal Trux,
Circle Jerks,
Dawn Penn,
Subhumans,
Steve Hackett,
Clear Light,
Nation of Ulysses,
Slave,
D'Angelo,
The Index,
Sugar Minott,
F. McDonald,
Maurizio,
The Velvet Underground,
Tubeway Army,
Aswad,
Monolake,
Desert Stars,
Quantec,
Judy Mowatt,
U.S. Maple,
Sound Behaviour,
Sam Rivers,
Hasil Adkins,
R.M.O.,
Mo-Dettes,
The Smiths,
Rites of Spring,
Anakelly,
Joe Finger,
PIL,
Throbbing Gristle,
Harmonia,
Absolute Body Control,
Harry Pussy,
The Stooges,
Stockholm Monsters,
Crash Course in Science,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lower 48,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.