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 Zimbabwe and from Calgary.
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 Bremen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 snare 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 Junior Murvin to the punk 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 Nation of Ulysses. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yaz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
Crispian St. Peters,
Q65,
Eli Mardock,
Leonard Cohen,
Man Parrish,
New Age Steppers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kevin Saunderson,
Graham Central Station,
The Last Poets,
The Blues Magoos,
The Count Five,
Soulsonic Force,
Joensuu 1685,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Albert Ayler,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Black Pus,
Masters at Work,
Tubeway Army,
cv313,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Fugs,
Matthew Bourne,
Sex Pistols,
Rakim,
Accadde A,
Inner City,
James White and The Blacks,
Fear,
Metal Thangz,
Cluster,
Deakin,
Dual Sessions,
Pulsallama,
Black Moon,
Quando Quango,
The Stooges,
Magma,
Susan Cadogan,
UT,
8 Eyed Spy,
Johnny Osbourne,
Brothers Johnson,
The Durutti Column,
Josef K,
The Gladiators,
The Pretty Things,
The Standells,
Byron Stingily,
Agent Orange,
Newcleus,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Gun Club,
D'Angelo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Moebius,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.