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 Senegal and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Throbbing Gristle to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a E-Dancer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Underground Resistance,
Stiv Bators,
Morten Harket,
Qualms,
The Cowsills,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Moleskins,
Rod Modell,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Arab on Radar,
Janne Schatter,
The Angels of Light,
Radiohead,
Yusef Lateef,
Oneida,
CMW,
Wasted Youth,
Pierre Henry,
Tommy Roe,
The Divine Comedy,
Cymande,
Robert Hood,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Severed Heads,
The Busters,
the Germs,
The Trojans,
Black Sheep,
Bad Manners,
Sun City Girls,
Harry Pussy,
Ronnie Foster,
The Fuzztones,
Agent Orange,
These Immortal Souls,
Camouflage,
Scrapy,
The Real Kids,
Dark Day,
Aswad,
Robert Görl,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Swell Maps,
Sandy B,
Donald Byrd,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lyres,
The Cure,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Suburban Knight,
Cameo,
Mars,
The American Breed,
Swans,
The Pop Group,
Ash Ra Tempel,
David Bowie,
Godley & Creme,
Section 25,
Supertramp,
Jandek,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.