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 Qatar and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 Moby Grape to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
This Heat,
Bizarre Inc.,
New Order,
Lungfish,
Japan,
The Techniques,
Section 25,
Index,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Country Teasers,
Metal Thangz,
The Selecter,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Cure,
A Certain Ratio,
Skaos,
Joe Finger,
John Foxx,
Cheater Slicks,
Amazonics,
Anakelly,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Angels of Light,
Robert Hood,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Main Source,
Hot Snakes,
Heaven 17,
Bobby Sherman,
Lou Reed,
Moby Grape,
Eric B and Rakim,
Mission of Burma,
Underground Resistance,
The Fuzztones,
Banda Bassotti,
Sällskapet,
Eve St. Jones,
Jacob Miller,
Suburban Knight,
The Modern Lovers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Con Funk Shun,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mo-Dettes,
Blake Baxter,
Bauhaus,
Graham Central Station,
Fugazi,
Lyres,
Delta 5,
Accadde A,
Dawn Penn,
Gong,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.