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 Mozambique and from Copenhagen.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 oboe 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 Fugazi to the crunk 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 Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
David McCallum,
Reuben Wilson,
The Fortunes,
The Alarm Clocks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mary Jane Girls,
Animal Collective,
Gabor Szabo,
A Certain Ratio,
David Axelrod,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Easy Going,
Cal Tjader,
Jacques Brel,
a-ha,
Cybotron,
Porter Ricks,
Judy Mowatt,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Royal Trux,
The Fuzztones,
Kenny Larkin,
Metal Thangz,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Arthur Verocai,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Marvin Gaye,
Ronnie Foster,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Cure,
Barry Ungar,
Section 25,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
10cc,
Nirvana,
Magma,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Groovy Waters,
Blake Baxter,
Pussy Galore,
Gang of Four,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sex Pistols,
Bobby Hutcherson,
EPMD,
The Slackers,
Minor Threat,
Excepter,
The Dead C,
John Coltrane,
Visage,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Technova,
Ossler,
Lyres,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Prince Buster,
Panda Bear,
Stereo Dub,
LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J.
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.