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 Lesotho and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 linndrum 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 KRS-One to the electroclash 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 The Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Urselle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Janne Schatter,
Mark Hollis,
ABBA,
The Gun Club,
Pantytec,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Kinks,
Malaria!,
Sparks,
Ituana,
Nik Kershaw,
Alison Limerick,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mr. Review,
Smog,
Bill Wells,
Make Up,
Moby Grape,
Sex Pistols,
The Index,
Lower 48,
Country Teasers,
Alphaville,
Hashim,
Thompson Twins,
Franke,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kas Product,
Patti Smith,
Organ,
Todd Rundgren,
Pylon,
The Music Machine,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Warren Ellis,
Parry Music,
Joy Division,
Anthony Braxton,
Mad Mike,
Black Pus,
Pole,
Eric Copeland,
The Star Department,
These Immortal Souls,
Saccharine Trust,
Kerri Chandler,
Main Source,
Interpol,
LL Cool J,
Average White Band,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Dead C,
Steve Hackett,
Swans,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Swell Maps,
Porter Ricks,
The Martian,
Goldenarms,
The Fire Engines,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.