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 Iraq and from Hong Kong.
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 Bologna and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 arpeggiator 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 Pussy Galore to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q and Not U record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
Pierre Henry,
Scratch Acid,
Rotary Connection,
John Coltrane,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pantaleimon,
The Buckinghams,
DJ Sneak,
Marine Girls,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mandrill,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Motions,
Peter & Gordon,
Black Pus,
Mission of Burma,
Tim Buckley,
Pole,
Ponytail,
The Blackbyrds,
Roy Ayers,
T. Rex,
Scientists,
Animal Collective,
Scion,
Groovy Waters,
Tears for Fears,
The J.B.'s,
The Human League,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bobby Byrd,
The Stooges,
Tomorrow,
Lower 48,
The Golliwogs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Laurel Aitken,
Alison Limerick,
The Kinks,
John Foxx,
David Bowie,
Amazonics,
The Real Kids,
New Order,
Lyres,
Loose Ends,
Erasure,
Junior Murvin,
Mark Hollis,
The Doobie Brothers,
Y Pants,
Cluster,
Cheater Slicks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.