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 Madagascar and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 harpsichord 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 Bang On A Can to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Wasted Youth,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Fortunes,
Soulsonic Force,
Fad Gadget,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Delta 5,
The Sonics,
Depeche Mode,
Duran Duran,
Neil Young,
Zero Boys,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bronski Beat,
Godley & Creme,
The Misunderstood,
Essential Logic,
the Human League,
Deadbeat,
Accadde A,
New Order,
Harmonia,
Gang of Four,
Procol Harum,
Sex Pistols,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Terrestrial Tones,
Avey Tare,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bobby Womack,
Kayak,
Scion,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Popol Vuh,
Fatback Band,
Dave Gahan,
Rhythm & Sound,
Joe Finger,
Porter Ricks,
Funkadelic,
Aloha Tigers,
Hoover,
The Raincoats,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Birthday Party,
Rod Modell,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Eve St. Jones,
Radiopuhelimet,
Howard Jones,
Fat Boys,
Roy Ayers,
Youth Brigade,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Isaac Hayes,
Mo-Dettes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pylon,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.