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 Andorra and from Milan.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Index to the disco 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
the Association,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Moody Blues,
The Five Americans,
Camouflage,
Yellowson,
Ten City,
June of 44,
Tomorrow,
ABBA,
The New Christs,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Birthday Party,
Drexciya,
Adolescents,
Neu!,
Aloha Tigers,
Gang Green,
U.S. Maple,
Ituana,
Janne Schatter,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Prince Buster,
Warren Ellis,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Soft Machine,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
FM Einheit,
Jacques Brel,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Rites of Spring,
The Smoke,
Brand Nubian,
The Skatalites,
Rosa Yemen,
Technova,
Rod Modell,
Spoonie Gee,
Letta Mbulu,
Monolake,
Symarip,
Bill Wells,
Roger Hodgson,
Faraquet,
Blake Baxter,
Fluxion,
T. Rex,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ice-T,
Morten Harket,
Susan Cadogan,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Normal,
The J.B.'s,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.