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 Russia and from Lagos.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Copenhagen.
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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 MC5 to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Chrome,
Electric Prunes,
Crispy Ambulance,
Desert Stars,
Bill Wells,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Little Man,
Arthur Verocai,
Index,
Ultravox,
Mr. Review,
Grauzone,
Jandek,
48th St. Collective,
Girls At Our Best!,
Soft Cell,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kas Product,
Eric Dolphy,
Television Personalities,
The Moleskins,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cybotron,
Reagan Youth,
Bluetip,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sun Ra,
Joy Division,
Kaleidoscope,
Deepchord,
Mission of Burma,
Avey Tare,
Gabor Szabo,
Suburban Knight,
The Sonics,
The Seeds,
Agent Orange,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
James White and The Blacks,
Judy Mowatt,
Maleditus Sound,
Infiniti,
Joensuu 1685,
Fat Boys,
Brand Nubian,
Quando Quango,
Tim Buckley,
Silicon Teens,
The Smoke,
Moby Grape,
Alison Limerick,
Gregory Isaacs,
Smog,
Crooked Eye,
Soulsonic Force,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pylon,
Jacques Brel,
Tom Boy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Zeros,
Bobby Hutcherson,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.