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 Ecuador and from Spokane.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Tom Verlaine 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 New Order to the techno 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 The Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Dennis Brown tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Freddie Wadling record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
Buzzcocks,
Quantec,
The Star Department,
Todd Terry,
David McCallum,
Liliput,
Banda Bassotti,
Roxy Music,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Zero Boys,
Lou Reed,
Minny Pops,
K-Klass,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ken Boothe,
Thee Headcoats,
Marvin Gaye,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Moebius,
The Leaves,
Public Enemy,
Brick,
Duran Duran,
The Fugs,
Sun City Girls,
Vainqueur,
Index,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Normal,
Mantronix,
Scion,
Piero Umiliani,
Scrapy,
OOIOO,
Robert Hood,
EPMD,
Newcleus,
Agent Orange,
Wings,
Ossler,
The Martian,
Soft Cell,
Iggy Pop,
The Gun Club,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Dawn Penn,
Trumans Water,
Dead Boys,
The Remains,
Man Eating Sloth,
F. McDonald,
Amon Düül II,
Fear,
Pantytec,
Joey Negro,
Pere Ubu,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Franke,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.