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 Belgium 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lagos.
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 oboe 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 The Buckinghams to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thompson Twins,
Urselle,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Alison Limerick,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lou Christie,
F. McDonald,
Porter Ricks,
LL Cool J,
Pylon,
Derrick May,
Janne Schatter,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
H. Thieme,
Althea and Donna,
The Martian,
Danielle Patucci,
Alton Ellis,
Pere Ubu,
Mantronix,
Supertramp,
Howard Jones,
Television Personalities,
Al Stewart,
Joe Smooth,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Livin' Joy,
Fela Kuti,
Anakelly,
T. Rex,
the Swans,
Tom Boy,
Mad Mike,
Quadrant,
Tim Buckley,
Ice-T,
Kaleidoscope,
Junior Murvin,
The Detroit Cobras,
DNA,
The Victims,
The Star Department,
Spoonie Gee,
The Slackers,
Guru Guru,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ornette Coleman,
Gang Starr,
The Busters,
Panda Bear,
Joy Division,
Colin Newman,
The Fugs,
Vladislav Delay,
Rosa Yemen,
The Searchers,
Crooked Eye,
Black Pus,
Leonard Cohen,
Gichy Dan,
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.