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 St Lucia and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lucky Dragons to the jazz 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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Lynne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Amazonics,
Jeff Mills,
Harry Pussy,
Dennis Brown,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Slave,
Radio Birdman,
Pussy Galore,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Blues Magoos,
Newcleus,
Model 500,
Stockholm Monsters,
Juan Atkins,
Ronnie Foster,
Liliput,
Carl Craig,
Little Man,
Gerry Rafferty,
Crispy Ambulance,
Visage,
The Gories,
Aaron Thompson,
The Velvet Underground,
Peter and Kerry,
The Buckinghams,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Niagra,
Marc Almond,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gabor Szabo,
Nick Fraelich,
Faraquet,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Reagan Youth,
Joy Division,
Underground Resistance,
The American Breed,
The Vogues,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cymande,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Yusef Lateef,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
China Crisis,
Dark Day,
Stereo Dub,
Bootsy Collins,
Shuggie Otis,
Boz Scaggs,
Eden Ahbez,
Spandau Ballet,
Marvin Gaye,
Half Japanese,
Magma,
kango's stein massive,
the Germs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bobby Sherman,
The Searchers,
The Dirtbombs,
The Invisible,
EPMD, EPMD, EPMD, EPMD.
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.