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 Paraguay and from Seoul.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Grandmaster Flash to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Skaos. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
Outsiders,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jesper Dahlback,
Derrick Morgan,
Monks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ohio Players,
X-Ray Spex,
The Cure,
OOIOO,
Arab on Radar,
Tom Boy,
Warsaw,
Rosa Yemen,
Unrelated Segments,
Mark Hollis,
Bootsy Collins,
The Residents,
Animal Collective,
Bauhaus,
Black Pus,
Dual Sessions,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jawbox,
Television,
Cameo,
The Neon Judgement,
The Selecter,
Sonny Sharrock,
Minor Threat,
The Five Americans,
Anthony Braxton,
Minutemen,
Flipper,
The Motions,
MC5,
Sixth Finger,
JFA,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Joey Negro,
Saccharine Trust,
Mission of Burma,
the Sonics,
Can,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
8 Eyed Spy,
Soulsonic Force,
Kurtis Blow,
The Fugs,
Peter and Kerry,
The Real Kids,
Radio Birdman,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Banda Bassotti,
The Dave Clark Five,
Prince Buster,
The Moody Blues,
Cecil Taylor,
Spandau Ballet,
Faraquet,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.