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 Andorra and from Tokyo.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 synthesizer 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 New Christs. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan 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 linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
The Remains,
Rites of Spring,
Soulsonic Force,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Johnny Clarke,
Zero Boys,
Don Cherry,
Radiohead,
Arab on Radar,
Whodini,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Searchers,
The Birthday Party,
Supertramp,
Franke,
Anakelly,
Nas,
Cluster,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Fluxion,
Ludus,
Eddi Front,
Basic Channel,
Rod Modell,
10cc,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Angels of Light,
Roxette,
AZ,
Inner City,
the Bar-Kays,
Crispy Ambulance,
Swell Maps,
Bobby Byrd,
Goldenarms,
the Soft Cell,
Roger Hodgson,
X-101,
Laurel Aitken,
Essential Logic,
Moby Grape,
Robert Görl,
The Divine Comedy,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jeff Mills,
Interpol,
Ken Boothe,
EPMD,
Kool Moe Dee,
Dark Day,
Unwound,
Average White Band,
Urselle,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Roy Ayers,
CMW,
E-Dancer,
X-102,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eden Ahbez,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.