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 Pakistan and from Lille.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lyon.
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 güiro 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 Rapeman to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Blake Baxter,
Bill Near,
D'Angelo,
The Skatalites,
Fugazi,
Aswad,
Pierre Henry,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sugar Minott,
Johnny Clarke,
The Gories,
Donny Hathaway,
Bang On A Can,
Ultimate Spinach,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Subhumans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Scratch Acid,
Audionom,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Peter & Gordon,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jacques Brel,
the Human League,
Deepchord,
Bush Tetras,
The Five Americans,
Pole,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jeru the Damaja,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tommy Roe,
The Doors,
The Cowsills,
Chris Corsano,
the Bar-Kays,
Junior Murvin,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Mars,
Desert Stars,
John Cale,
Swell Maps,
Das Ding,
Intrusion,
Minutemen,
Tropical Tobacco,
Loose Ends,
Vainqueur,
Grey Daturas,
Rhythm & Sound,
Amazonics,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kurtis Blow,
Cymande,
Bobby Womack,
Donald Byrd,
Arthur Verocai,
Fluxion,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.