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 Tanzania and from Beijing.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Minny Pops to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arthur Verocai 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?
Drive Like Jehu,
Gabor Szabo,
Mr. Review,
Rosa Yemen,
Minutemen,
Con Funk Shun,
It's A Beautiful Day,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jacob Miller,
Cheater Slicks,
Ponytail,
Juan Atkins,
Gang Green,
Man Parrish,
PIL,
Sparks,
Radiopuhelimet,
Slick Rick,
Fugazi,
Blossom Toes,
The Music Machine,
Soul Sonic Force,
Scientists,
New York Dolls,
Suicide,
The Gap Band,
Althea and Donna,
John Coltrane,
Black Sheep,
Barrington Levy,
The Happenings,
Brand Nubian,
These Immortal Souls,
The Slackers,
Archie Shepp,
Average White Band,
Marcia Griffiths,
Nik Kershaw,
Marmalade,
Jawbox,
Visage,
X-Ray Spex,
DJ Style,
Frankie Knuckles,
Von Mondo,
the Human League,
Johnny Osbourne,
Y Pants,
Ludus,
Arthur Verocai,
The Cure,
Fad Gadget,
Gichy Dan,
Bad Manners,
Rapeman,
Eve St. Jones,
Inner City,
The Durutti Column,
Supertramp,
Interpol,
Simply Red,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.