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 Turkey and from Delhi.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Goldenarms to the rap 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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
One Last Wish,
Matthew Halsall,
Jacques Brel,
Deadbeat,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Red Krayola,
The Fortunes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
James White and The Blacks,
Andrew Hill,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Tremeloes,
Rotary Connection,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fluxion,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Velvet Underground,
Jandek,
Isaac Hayes,
Eli Mardock,
Susan Cadogan,
Monolake,
The United States of America,
Crispian St. Peters,
Radio Birdman,
Ornette Coleman,
Jimmy McGriff,
Arcadia,
Althea and Donna,
Loose Ends,
Infiniti,
Sugar Minott,
Parry Music,
Barrington Levy,
Sex Pistols,
Minny Pops,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Adolescents,
Guru Guru,
Aswad,
Toni Rubio,
Amon Düül,
Marmalade,
Malaria!,
Peter and Kerry,
Pere Ubu,
DNA,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Electric Prunes,
Hoover,
Ituana,
Pole,
Shoche,
Todd Terry,
Reagan Youth,
Gang Green,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Soulsonic Force,
Joe Smooth,
Cluster,
Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich.
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.