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 Haiti and from Shanghai.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Cure to the dance 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 Robert Görl. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
Boogie Down Productions,
Desert Stars,
Theoretical Girls,
The Fall,
Boredoms,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Eli Mardock,
Aural Exciters,
The Busters,
Graham Central Station,
Bill Near,
Flipper,
The Cure,
Dennis Brown,
Donald Byrd,
New York Dolls,
Tubeway Army,
Hashim,
The Sonics,
Monks,
Das Ding,
Monolake,
Vladislav Delay,
The Velvet Underground,
Kerrie Biddell,
Infiniti,
Barrington Levy,
Glenn Branca,
Magma,
The Real Kids,
DJ Sneak,
Bang On A Can,
Public Image Ltd.,
Duran Duran,
X-101,
Grey Daturas,
The Dirtbombs,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gong,
Index,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Happenings,
Thompson Twins,
Rotary Connection,
Talk Talk,
Piero Umiliani,
Alton Ellis,
Jawbox,
Faraquet,
Marcia Griffiths,
Young Marble Giants,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Stooges,
L. Decosne,
Sexual Harrassment,
Alison Limerick,
Mo-Dettes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Sound,
Iggy Pop,
Lou Reed,
The Five Americans,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.