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 Ethiopia and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sound 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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Spandau Ballet,
Absolute Body Control,
Niagra,
The New Christs,
Eurythmics,
Marshall Jefferson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gang Green,
Radiopuhelimet,
Urselle,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Tubeway Army,
Fugazi,
OOIOO,
Bobby Womack,
One Last Wish,
Magazine,
Alton Ellis,
Skriet,
Traffic Nightmare,
Groovy Waters,
The Gun Club,
Agent Orange,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Durutti Column,
Judy Mowatt,
Soul II Soul,
Pet Shop Boys,
Tropical Tobacco,
Soft Machine,
Crash Course in Science,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pussy Galore,
Scion,
Warren Ellis,
Can,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Porter Ricks,
Camberwell Now,
The Residents,
Arab on Radar,
Accadde A,
Harry Pussy,
Half Japanese,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Sonics,
Idris Muhammad,
H. Thieme,
Girls At Our Best!,
Swell Maps,
DJ Sneak,
The Dirtbombs,
Bill Wells,
Don Cherry,
The Star Department,
Kurtis Blow,
Grey Daturas,
Bootsy Collins,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft.
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.