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 Guyana and from Tehran.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Salvador.
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 güiro 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 Desert Stars to the rap 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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Larry & the Blue Notes 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 marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
DNA,
Television,
Dave Gahan,
Pere Ubu,
Babytalk,
Pylon,
Pole,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Banda Bassotti,
Rosa Yemen,
Derrick Morgan,
Eric Copeland,
Popol Vuh,
Scratch Acid,
Lee Hazlewood,
Peter & Gordon,
X-Ray Spex,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Johnny Clarke,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Robert Hood,
Blancmange,
Bill Near,
Gastr Del Sol,
Interpol,
UT,
Rekid,
The Fortunes,
Gong,
Ronan,
The Toasters,
Josef K,
Andrew Hill,
Das Ding,
Flamin' Groovies,
cv313,
The Electric Prunes,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Althea and Donna,
Ken Boothe,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Divine Comedy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Wolf Eyes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Soft Machine,
Quando Quango,
the Soft Cell,
Chrome,
Desert Stars,
Intrusion,
Soft Cell,
Deadbeat,
Average White Band,
Barry Ungar,
The Evens,
The Mummies,
Crime,
Soul II Soul,
The Leaves,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.