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 Gabon and from Madrid.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Throbbing Gristle to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Erasure. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Todd Terry,
MDC,
Godley & Creme,
Davy DMX,
Mad Mike,
The Doors,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Von Mondo,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jandek,
Black Bananas,
Technova,
Flipper,
the Fania All-Stars,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pet Shop Boys,
Josef K,
ABBA,
Minor Threat,
Little Man,
Urselle,
Bobby Sherman,
Khruangbin,
The Red Krayola,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Slackers,
Alison Limerick,
John Lydon,
Sixth Finger,
Traffic Nightmare,
Desert Stars,
Andrew Hill,
The Dead C,
Rekid,
John Cale,
Ultra Naté,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marine Girls,
Dawn Penn,
Eden Ahbez,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
New York Dolls,
Nils Olav,
The Gap Band,
Harry Pussy,
The Star Department,
Mission of Burma,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sound Behaviour,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Arthur Verocai,
The Gun Club,
Jacques Brel,
The J.B.'s,
Pylon,
The Zeros,
Make Up,
Byron Stingily,
Henry Cow,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.