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 Somalia and from Columbus.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 chamberlin 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 Intrusion to the electroclash 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 Main Source. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
Angry Samoans,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Glenn Branca,
Ronnie Foster,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Moby Grape,
Cameo,
The Mojo Men,
The Modern Lovers,
Susan Cadogan,
Unwound,
Girls At Our Best!,
Blake Baxter,
The Young Rascals,
Tropical Tobacco,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Monks,
Pantaleimon,
The Happenings,
Davy DMX,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sex Pistols,
Faust,
Country Teasers,
Matthew Bourne,
The Skatalites,
Fela Kuti,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Blancmange,
The Kinks,
Joyce Sims,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lucky Dragons,
Boredoms,
Fat Boys,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Section 25,
Public Enemy,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Man Parrish,
Sun City Girls,
Mr. Review,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Blossom Toes,
The Smoke,
Essential Logic,
Camberwell Now,
Mo-Dettes,
Scrapy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Newcleus,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Cramps,
Au Pairs,
Scientists,
Chris Corsano,
Bizarre Inc.,
New Order,
Procol Harum,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.