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 Paraguay and from Milan.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 spring reverb 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 Arthur Verocai to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All Japan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
The Divine Comedy,
The Monochrome Set,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Byron Stingily,
Agent Orange,
Wolf Eyes,
Severed Heads,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pierre Henry,
Gichy Dan,
Magma,
Rapeman,
Interpol,
Cal Tjader,
Mark Hollis,
Lakeside,
Arab on Radar,
The Count Five,
Marc Almond,
Carl Craig,
Royal Trux,
Lou Reed,
The Durutti Column,
Nas,
X-Ray Spex,
Donny Hathaway,
The Dirtbombs,
Slick Rick,
Idris Muhammad,
Newcleus,
The Wake,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Cramps,
Cybotron,
Ohio Players,
the Fania All-Stars,
Swans,
Massinfluence,
Camouflage,
Nico,
Franke,
Icehouse,
Eddi Front,
Yusef Lateef,
Theoretical Girls,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Alison Limerick,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Traffic Nightmare,
Blake Baxter,
Reagan Youth,
Gerry Rafferty,
Godley & Creme,
Jesper Dahlback,
Glambeats Corp.,
Oblivians,
Livin' Joy,
Henry Cow,
Brass Construction,
Blossom Toes,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Colin Newman,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.