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 Costa Rica and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Accadde A. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Anthony Braxton,
Robert Hood,
Guru Guru,
Eden Ahbez,
The Selecter,
Joy Division,
Ronan,
Jerry's Kids,
The Stooges,
Lou Reed,
Cal Tjader,
Technova,
Pantytec,
Todd Terry,
Gang Green,
Cameo,
Quando Quango,
Terrestrial Tones,
UT,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lakeside,
Trumans Water,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Alice Coltrane,
Deadbeat,
ABBA,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Mummies,
Oneida,
Terry Callier,
Andrew Hill,
Matthew Bourne,
Public Enemy,
Depeche Mode,
The Blackbyrds,
Zapp,
Al Stewart,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Wasted Youth,
Lyres,
Nik Kershaw,
Lalann,
Harry Pussy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Brand Nubian,
Godley & Creme,
Bobby Byrd,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Oblivians,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Trojans,
The Grass Roots,
Thee Headcoats,
Jawbox,
Michelle Simonal,
Lungfish,
48th St. Collective,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Zero Boys,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Carl Craig,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.