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 Honduras and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Parry Music to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun 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 '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 Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Modern Lovers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pagans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cecil Taylor,
Moss Icon,
EPMD,
Sixth Finger,
Severed Heads,
Connie Case,
Lyres,
Erasure,
Dual Sessions,
The Last Poets,
Spandau Ballet,
The Kinks,
Gregory Isaacs,
Outsiders,
Unwound,
Blossom Toes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
DJ Sneak,
The Raincoats,
Nas,
Dark Day,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Quando Quango,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Interpol,
Matthew Halsall,
The Fuzztones,
Magazine,
Piero Umiliani,
Black Pus,
The Doors,
The Zeros,
Wolf Eyes,
Sun City Girls,
Sällskapet,
CMW,
Echospace,
The Happenings,
Donny Hathaway,
AZ,
Minnie Riperton,
Derrick Morgan,
The Grass Roots,
Quadrant,
Cheater Slicks,
Howard Jones,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Motions,
Popol Vuh,
ABBA,
Suicide,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Soul II Soul,
The Evens,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Groovy Waters,
Royal Trux,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.