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 Tunisia and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sandy B to the techno 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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Fluxion,
Ronan,
ABBA,
Funkadelic,
CMW,
The Walker Brothers,
Masters at Work,
Letta Mbulu,
Marmalade,
Tres Demented,
Hashim,
Bang On A Can,
Stetsasonic,
Buzzcocks,
Scott Walker,
Hoover,
Simply Red,
Groovy Waters,
Television Personalities,
Unwound,
Drexciya,
Lalo Schifrin,
Procol Harum,
Eric Copeland,
Index,
Mark Hollis,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Mummies,
Sun City Girls,
Altered Images,
Gang of Four,
Pere Ubu,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Swans,
The Barracudas,
The Angels of Light,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
James White and The Blacks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
the Bar-Kays,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Fatback Band,
This Heat,
John Lydon,
Dual Sessions,
Moss Icon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rosa Yemen,
Moebius,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rapeman,
Dead Boys,
Matthew Halsall,
Mantronix,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
David Bowie,
Wally Richardson,
Soft Cell,
10cc,
Delon & Dalcan,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.