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 Gambia and from Shanghai.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Marine Girls to the grunge 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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Ludus,
Monolake,
Section 25,
Oneida,
Public Image Ltd.,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Wasted Youth,
Essential Logic,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gong,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Barracudas,
the Germs,
Bob Dylan,
Toni Rubio,
Scratch Acid,
Echospace,
Soft Machine,
The Stooges,
Moss Icon,
The Moody Blues,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Dual Sessions,
Dennis Brown,
Stiv Bators,
Malaria!,
Gregory Isaacs,
Zero Boys,
Roxy Music,
The Dirtbombs,
The Busters,
Skarface,
Slick Rick,
Supertramp,
Duran Duran,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Fluxion,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rapeman,
Cameo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
A Certain Ratio,
Mo-Dettes,
Average White Band,
John Foxx,
Banda Bassotti,
June of 44,
Kenny Larkin,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gang of Four,
the Bar-Kays,
Swans,
Johnny Clarke,
James White and The Blacks,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Harry Pussy,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.