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 Nepal 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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Grass Roots to the dance 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 Sound. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Section 25,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
June of 44,
The Velvet Underground,
Man Parrish,
Black Moon,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Crime,
Young Marble Giants,
Amon Düül II,
B.T. Express,
Arab on Radar,
Lightning Bolt,
Black Sheep,
Brand Nubian,
The Cure,
OOIOO,
Ituana,
the Human League,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Zeros,
Ralphi Rosario,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Fatback Band,
Iggy Pop,
Sly & The Family Stone,
DNA,
Barrington Levy,
Slick Rick,
the Soft Cell,
Dark Day,
The Mummies,
Bronski Beat,
The United States of America,
Kas Product,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Residents,
Josef K,
Robert Hood,
Malaria!,
New York Dolls,
Ken Boothe,
Circle Jerks,
Procol Harum,
Banda Bassotti,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Laurel Aitken,
Tropical Tobacco,
Henry Cow,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Skatalites,
The New Christs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Zapp,
Skarface,
John Foxx,
Supertramp,
Wally Richardson,
Johnny Osbourne,
Hasil Adkins,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Fania All-Stars,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.