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 Ecuador and from Lagos.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 rhodes 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 Funky Four + One to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 New Age Steppers. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick Morgan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
Wire,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Drive Like Jehu,
Audionom,
Thompson Twins,
Delon & Dalcan,
Altered Images,
Surgeon,
Flipper,
Sandy B,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Red Krayola,
Trumans Water,
Minor Threat,
Little Man,
Excepter,
Banda Bassotti,
Ice-T,
Livin' Joy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
New York Dolls,
Minnie Riperton,
Sound Behaviour,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Tom Boy,
Suburban Knight,
Joy Division,
Gang Gang Dance,
Nico,
Scientists,
Intrusion,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Jawbox,
Aaron Thompson,
Das Ding,
FM Einheit,
Ultravox,
Angry Samoans,
The Knickerbockers,
Lucky Dragons,
Girls At Our Best!,
Neil Young,
Cybotron,
X-101,
Terrestrial Tones,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Junior Murvin,
Underground Resistance,
Cameo,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Amon Düül II,
Ossler,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pole,
Soul II Soul,
Rekid,
a-ha,
Eric B and Rakim,
Depeche Mode,
Darondo,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.