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 Mauritania and from Woodstock.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Parry Music to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pole record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
The Martian,
Sun City Girls,
Fluxion,
Loose Ends,
James White and The Blacks,
Ultravox,
John Cale,
Carl Craig,
The Divine Comedy,
Magma,
the Bar-Kays,
Dead Boys,
the Sonics,
The Misunderstood,
Barbara Tucker,
Grauzone,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Suburban Knight,
Ten City,
The Smiths,
Roy Ayers,
Brand Nubian,
Colin Newman,
Faraquet,
Pet Shop Boys,
Von Mondo,
Tubeway Army,
The Wake,
the Slits,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Man Eating Sloth,
Magazine,
Peter and Kerry,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Mandrill,
Nick Fraelich,
Thompson Twins,
Althea and Donna,
Marcia Griffiths,
Glenn Branca,
Anthony Braxton,
Pole,
Bobby Womack,
Connie Case,
Tomorrow,
Das Ding,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Josef K,
Second Layer,
Charles Mingus,
Goldenarms,
Lungfish,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Slits,
Suicide,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Buzzcocks,
Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez.
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.