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 Spain and from Seoul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 linndrum 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 Sister Nancy to the techno 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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
The Red Krayola,
Scan 7,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lakeside,
Stetsasonic,
Flipper,
Sarah Menescal,
Slick Rick,
Radiopuhelimet,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
La Düsseldorf,
Gang Starr,
Oblivians,
The Modern Lovers,
Stereo Dub,
Neu!,
The Seeds,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Monolake,
Camberwell Now,
ABC,
Ronnie Foster,
Whodini,
Gichy Dan,
Yaz,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Gladiators,
Blancmange,
a-ha,
Lalo Schifrin,
Altered Images,
Marmalade,
Kenny Larkin,
Public Image Ltd.,
Von Mondo,
The Wake,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Derrick May,
Stockholm Monsters,
Barclay James Harvest,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Barbara Tucker,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tres Demented,
Sonic Youth,
T. Rex,
Qualms,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Star Department,
The Golliwogs,
Gastr Del Sol,
K-Klass,
Darondo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Durutti Column,
Pere Ubu,
New Order,
Jacob Miller,
Vainqueur,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Audionom, Audionom, Audionom, Audionom.
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.