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 Togo and from Shanghai.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 marimba 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Groovy Waters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gang Starr,
Japan,
Patti Smith,
the Bar-Kays,
Marine Girls,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lebanon Hanover,
Yaz,
The Dave Clark Five,
This Heat,
Minnie Riperton,
DJ Style,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Neon Judgement,
D'Angelo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Oblivians,
Amazonics,
The Walker Brothers,
Dark Day,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Todd Rundgren,
Marvin Gaye,
The Mummies,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Robert Wyatt,
Liliput,
Kerri Chandler,
Ponytail,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Siglo XX,
the Swans,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gichy Dan,
Soft Cell,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Suburban Knight,
The Smoke,
Royal Trux,
48th St. Collective,
Gabor Szabo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Searchers,
Franke,
Blossom Toes,
Trumans Water,
Hasil Adkins,
The Gap Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Yazoo,
Cal Tjader,
Sarah Menescal,
Outsiders,
Q65,
Mo-Dettes,
Q and Not U,
Eden Ahbez,
Organ,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.