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 Hungary and from Jakarta.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Outsiders to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Section 25. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arcadia 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
Agent Orange,
Infiniti,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Organ,
Isaac Hayes,
Lucky Dragons,
Henry Cow,
Interpol,
Marmalade,
the Soft Cell,
Glenn Branca,
Goldenarms,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
DNA,
Godley & Creme,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Drive Like Jehu,
Soulsonic Force,
Mission of Burma,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kool Moe Dee,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tubeway Army,
Chris & Cosey,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Invisible,
Simply Red,
Depeche Mode,
Sparks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sonic Youth,
Scratch Acid,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Section 25,
Avey Tare,
Swell Maps,
Lalo Schifrin,
Don Cherry,
the Fania All-Stars,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
New York Dolls,
Wally Richardson,
Skriet,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Electric Prunes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Susan Cadogan,
Eric Copeland,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
T.S.O.L.,
Bob Dylan,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Al Stewart,
Visage,
Max Romeo,
Negative Approach,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.