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 Manchester.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Michael McDonald 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 Scratch Acid to the rap 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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blossom Toes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Wasted Youth,
The Index,
Swell Maps,
E-Dancer,
Sam Rivers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Drive Like Jehu,
One Last Wish,
Clear Light,
Blancmange,
Kerrie Biddell,
Agent Orange,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Porter Ricks,
Arthur Verocai,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Cowsills,
Grey Daturas,
CMW,
Janne Schatter,
Barry Ungar,
Bad Manners,
A Certain Ratio,
Tubeway Army,
the Association,
Public Image Ltd.,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Anthony Braxton,
Delta 5,
Mars,
Fat Boys,
a-ha,
La Düsseldorf,
Von Mondo,
Model 500,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
OOIOO,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Infiniti,
Ultra Naté,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Kool Moe Dee,
Juan Atkins,
Stetsasonic,
The Trojans,
Desert Stars,
Franke,
Terrestrial Tones,
Altered Images,
The Invisible,
The Vogues,
Nico,
The Last Poets,
Matthew Bourne,
Lyres,
Rotary Connection,
Tommy Roe,
Nas,
the Normal,
Reuben Wilson,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.