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 Cyprus and from Lyon.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 organ 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Monks,
The Happenings,
Rhythm & Sound,
Television,
Reuben Wilson,
Metal Thangz,
Ultimate Spinach,
Television Personalities,
the Slits,
Brothers Johnson,
The Invisible,
The Victims,
The Leaves,
PIL,
L. Decosne,
Radiohead,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gang Starr,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Soft Machine,
Desert Stars,
Can,
Barrington Levy,
Marmalade,
Rekid,
Janne Schatter,
Ten City,
The Saints,
Bobby Sherman,
Leonard Cohen,
Nik Kershaw,
Niagra,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Deadbeat,
Yellowson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Interpol,
Boredoms,
Donny Hathaway,
New Age Steppers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Robert Görl,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Derrick May,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Loose Ends,
K-Klass,
The Mojo Men,
Throbbing Gristle,
Unwound,
Scientists,
Neu!,
Max Romeo,
Second Layer,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.