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 Romania and from Portland.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Columbus.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 K-Klass to the jazz 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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Dual Sessions,
Susan Cadogan,
Accadde A,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Cheater Slicks,
The Searchers,
Yusef Lateef,
Nirvana,
Eve St. Jones,
The Evens,
Anthony Braxton,
Funky Four + One,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
F. McDonald,
Kas Product,
The Cramps,
Scrapy,
Joe Finger,
Robert Wyatt,
Gichy Dan,
The Angels of Light,
Bobby Sherman,
Kurtis Blow,
Dawn Penn,
Barclay James Harvest,
Maurizio,
Reuben Wilson,
The Neon Judgement,
The Seeds,
Jesper Dahlback,
Connie Case,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Wasted Youth,
Swans,
Jimmy McGriff,
Colin Newman,
Marine Girls,
Lyres,
Rotary Connection,
Outsiders,
The Moleskins,
Eurythmics,
Bob Dylan,
The American Breed,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Smoke,
The Gories,
Chrome,
Japan,
Alison Limerick,
Ken Boothe,
Q and Not U,
Ultra Naté,
Roxy Music,
Jerry's Kids,
Sparks,
Aswad,
Skriet,
Sällskapet,
Rekid,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.