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 Czech Republic and from Sao Paulo.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Victims to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
L. Decosne,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Cure,
Iggy Pop,
Model 500,
Harpers Bizarre,
Soulsonic Force,
CMW,
Joe Smooth,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Y Pants,
Pantytec,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Darondo,
Kenny Larkin,
Technova,
Sound Behaviour,
Bob Dylan,
Lower 48,
Althea and Donna,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Stiv Bators,
Joensuu 1685,
Rotary Connection,
Rufus Thomas,
Unrelated Segments,
cv313,
Arthur Verocai,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Marshall Jefferson,
Arcadia,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Minny Pops,
Jeff Mills,
The Cowsills,
Pagans,
Scan 7,
John Coltrane,
The Standells,
Oneida,
Cybotron,
Can,
OOIOO,
E-Dancer,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Man Parrish,
Royal Trux,
Nick Fraelich,
Bobby Womack,
Procol Harum,
Rod Modell,
Drexciya,
Second Layer,
Michelle Simonal,
Stockholm Monsters,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ken Boothe,
Matthew Halsall,
X-Ray Spex,
New Age Steppers,
Monks,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.