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 Tunisia and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Donald Fagen 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül II record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
The Sound,
Bobby Sherman,
Suburban Knight,
Soul Sonic Force,
Electric Prunes,
Barbara Tucker,
Sex Pistols,
Qualms,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Magma,
Royal Trux,
La Düsseldorf,
Stetsasonic,
The Monochrome Set,
48th St. Collective,
Rites of Spring,
Brothers Johnson,
Erasure,
Andrew Hill,
Moss Icon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Franke,
Radio Birdman,
Lower 48,
The Angels of Light,
Pharoah Sanders,
MDC,
The Count Five,
Youth Brigade,
Pet Shop Boys,
Excepter,
Y Pants,
Fear,
Sandy B,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Buckinghams,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Patti Smith,
One Last Wish,
Vladislav Delay,
The Human League,
Metal Thangz,
Anthony Braxton,
Eli Mardock,
CMW,
Index,
Technova,
Juan Atkins,
Minny Pops,
Harry Pussy,
Davy DMX,
Second Layer,
Sugar Minott,
Flipper,
Slick Rick,
June of 44,
Barrington Levy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Curtis Mayfield,
Blossom Toes,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.