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 Liberia and from Taipei.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Howard Jones to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Scan 7,
La Düsseldorf,
Pylon,
Sarah Menescal,
The Neon Judgement,
Marshall Jefferson,
Grauzone,
The Moleskins,
Fluxion,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Throbbing Gristle,
H. Thieme,
Stetsasonic,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Bar-Kays,
Masters at Work,
kango's stein massive,
The Wake,
Junior Murvin,
Lalo Schifrin,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rakim,
Max Romeo,
Public Enemy,
Eric Copeland,
Crash Course in Science,
the Fania All-Stars,
Erykah Badu,
Fear,
Faraquet,
Negative Approach,
Bob Dylan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Index,
The New Christs,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Sonics,
Underground Resistance,
Talk Talk,
Robert Hood,
Iggy Pop,
Agitation Free,
The Human League,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Matthew Halsall,
Terrestrial Tones,
Terry Callier,
Ice-T,
Nas,
Fat Boys,
Neu!,
David Bowie,
T. Rex,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Niagra,
Patti Smith,
Alphaville,
The Birthday Party,
The Fall,
Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario.
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.