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 Zimbabwe and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 John Cale to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Gories. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
T.S.O.L.,
EPMD,
Lebanon Hanover,
Mandrill,
The Searchers,
Ken Boothe,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Peter & Gordon,
the Bar-Kays,
Silicon Teens,
Porter Ricks,
Shoche,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kerrie Biddell,
Anakelly,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Detroit Cobras,
ABC,
James Chance & The Contortions,
K-Klass,
Ludus,
Absolute Body Control,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kevin Saunderson,
Minny Pops,
U.S. Maple,
Model 500,
L. Decosne,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Skatalites,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Aaron Thompson,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Dead C,
Reuben Wilson,
Avey Tare,
Masters at Work,
A Certain Ratio,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Toasters,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Byron Stingily,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Loose Ends,
8 Eyed Spy,
Chrome,
Das Ding,
Sällskapet,
Todd Rundgren,
Howard Jones,
The Motions,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Black Moon,
AZ,
Danielle Patucci,
Dual Sessions,
Dawn Penn,
Infiniti,
Organ,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.