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 Iraq and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erasure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
The Cure,
Aswad,
The Fire Engines,
Mark Hollis,
Porter Ricks,
Tim Buckley,
Brass Construction,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Absolute Body Control,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Detroit Cobras,
Roy Ayers,
Oneida,
The Flesh Eaters,
Hoover,
Glambeats Corp.,
Fluxion,
Judy Mowatt,
Ultimate Spinach,
Black Bananas,
Erasure,
Prince Buster,
Rapeman,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Peter & Gordon,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Symarip,
Ituana,
Camouflage,
The Angels of Light,
Lalo Schifrin,
kango's stein massive,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Carl Craig,
the Human League,
Lyres,
Pagans,
Marc Almond,
Althea and Donna,
Bang On A Can,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jerry's Kids,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
June Days,
Sexual Harrassment,
K-Klass,
Boogie Down Productions,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Warren Ellis,
Avey Tare,
Scratch Acid,
Blancmange,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Remains,
Pole,
Morten Harket,
Jeff Mills,
The Leaves,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.