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 Jamaica 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 organ 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 Mr. Review to the disco 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Swell Maps,
Fatback Band,
Eurythmics,
Mantronix,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Robert Görl,
Babytalk,
Stockholm Monsters,
K-Klass,
L. Decosne,
The Barracudas,
Interpol,
X-101,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Mary Jane Girls,
Unwound,
EPMD,
Au Pairs,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Marcia Griffiths,
Basic Channel,
Toni Rubio,
Subhumans,
The Gories,
Sandy B,
Sonic Youth,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Slave,
Radio Birdman,
Dave Gahan,
Boz Scaggs,
Little Man,
The Monks,
Spandau Ballet,
Flash Fearless,
Peter & Gordon,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Neu!,
The Slits,
Andrew Hill,
Rufus Thomas,
Juan Atkins,
The Tremeloes,
Al Stewart,
Sex Pistols,
Connie Case,
Index,
Kurtis Blow,
The Searchers,
Hasil Adkins,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Pretty Things,
The Young Rascals,
Suicide,
Isaac Hayes,
Man Parrish,
Arcadia,
Tommy Roe,
The Associates, The Associates, The Associates, The Associates.
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.