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 Syria and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Jesper Dahlback to the dance 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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Pylon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Residents,
Barbara Tucker,
Swell Maps,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Tomorrow,
Flipper,
The Fugs,
The Slits,
Subhumans,
Cheater Slicks,
The Dead C,
The Neon Judgement,
Sonic Youth,
Judy Mowatt,
Slave,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Remains,
Darondo,
Roger Hodgson,
Mo-Dettes,
Lebanon Hanover,
Minor Threat,
Barclay James Harvest,
Brick,
Laurel Aitken,
Au Pairs,
Grey Daturas,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Section 25,
Public Enemy,
Arab on Radar,
Maurizio,
David McCallum,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Deadbeat,
Nico,
The Doors,
The Raincoats,
Iggy Pop,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Howard Jones,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Second Layer,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gang of Four,
This Heat,
Big Daddy Kane,
Suburban Knight,
Surgeon,
Donald Byrd,
Wolf Eyes,
Patti Smith,
The Happenings,
Can,
Los Fastidios,
The United States of America,
Masters at Work,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.