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 Germany and from Columbus.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Spoonie Gee,
Connie Case,
The Neon Judgement,
Toni Rubio,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Scott Walker,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sixth Finger,
Radiohead,
Mandrill,
Crispian St. Peters,
Buzzcocks,
Jandek,
Bobby Womack,
the Germs,
The Five Americans,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Barracudas,
Michelle Simonal,
Harry Pussy,
The Stooges,
the Soft Cell,
Sun Ra,
The Names,
Jeru the Damaja,
E-Dancer,
Marmalade,
Erykah Badu,
X-102,
Echospace,
Henry Cow,
Outsiders,
Youth Brigade,
Main Source,
Lalann,
Black Bananas,
Prince Buster,
Ultravox,
Japan,
Cecil Taylor,
Neil Young,
Mantronix,
Grey Daturas,
Roy Ayers,
Basic Channel,
Unwound,
Scratch Acid,
Panda Bear,
Kaleidoscope,
Massinfluence,
Interpol,
Barrington Levy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Wake,
Alton Ellis,
Judy Mowatt,
Rekid,
The Beau Brummels,
Average White Band,
The Buckinghams,
Flipper,
Yaz,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.