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 Bangladesh and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Bluetip to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach 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 harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Intrusion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Camberwell Now,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sister Nancy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mandrill,
Jeru the Damaja,
Spoonie Gee,
Stiv Bators,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Infiniti,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Whodini,
Eve St. Jones,
Adolescents,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Section 25,
Tubeway Army,
Bobby Byrd,
The Gladiators,
Funky Four + One,
Thompson Twins,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Saints,
Drive Like Jehu,
June of 44,
Arcadia,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rites of Spring,
Niagra,
F. McDonald,
Suburban Knight,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Theoretical Girls,
Jimmy McGriff,
Spandau Ballet,
Max Romeo,
The Misunderstood,
Rapeman,
Soft Cell,
Thee Headcoats,
Nick Fraelich,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Bar-Kays,
the Swans,
Von Mondo,
In Retrospect,
Peter and Kerry,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bush Tetras,
The Gun Club,
Black Sheep,
The Fortunes,
Babytalk,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jerry's Kids,
Joensuu 1685,
Quando Quango,
Warren Ellis,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.