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 Dominican Republic and from Cairo.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 David Bowie 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 Sun Ra Arkestra to the crunk 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 X-102. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis 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 mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Mark Hollis,
Masters at Work,
Cameo,
Ten City,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jesper Dahlback,
Matthew Bourne,
The Gun Club,
Gerry Rafferty,
Blossom Toes,
Smog,
Ronan,
Circle Jerks,
Crash Course in Science,
Roy Ayers,
the Sonics,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Dead C,
The Alarm Clocks,
kango's stein massive,
Wolf Eyes,
Traffic Nightmare,
Slave,
Angry Samoans,
Juan Atkins,
Tears for Fears,
Delta 5,
D'Angelo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Harmonia,
Bad Manners,
Metal Thangz,
Soft Cell,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gang of Four,
Ludus,
Harpers Bizarre,
Niagra,
Scrapy,
Todd Terry,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
FM Einheit,
Amazonics,
Erykah Badu,
Deadbeat,
Suburban Knight,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Victims,
The Birthday Party,
Lalann,
Avey Tare,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Alison Limerick,
The Monks,
Altered Images,
MC5,
Mandrill,
Dead Boys,
Gang Gang Dance,
Country Teasers,
Das Ding,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.