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 Barbados and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Calgary.
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 güiro 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 Sandy B to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Fluxion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Susan Cadogan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Associates,
Arab on Radar,
Half Japanese,
Albert Ayler,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Chris Corsano,
The Black Dice,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wasted Youth,
Lyres,
Metal Thangz,
The Searchers,
Bad Manners,
James White and The Blacks,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Dead C,
Buzzcocks,
Circle Jerks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jeff Lynne,
The Martian,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Smiths,
Urselle,
The Cure,
Ornette Coleman,
E-Dancer,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mark Hollis,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kurtis Blow,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pussy Galore,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Minny Pops,
Todd Rundgren,
Rites of Spring,
Skriet,
Steve Hackett,
Sandy B,
Excepter,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Thompson Twins,
Audionom,
Connie Case,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Man Parrish,
The Fall,
Kerrie Biddell,
Cluster,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Heaven 17,
The Gap Band,
The Velvet Underground,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Terry Callier,
Tears for Fears,
Brick,
The Pretty Things,
Quando Quango,
R.M.O.,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.