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 Vanuatu and from Glasgow.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 organ 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 The Black Dice to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
Fatback Band,
Unwound,
Index,
The Fuzztones,
Eurythmics,
Interpol,
Vladislav Delay,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Arcadia,
The Monochrome Set,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sun Ra,
The J.B.'s,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Icehouse,
Alice Coltrane,
T. Rex,
Niagra,
La Düsseldorf,
Cal Tjader,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Modern Lovers,
Thee Headcoats,
June of 44,
Radiohead,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Neon Judgement,
Sarah Menescal,
Television Personalities,
The Remains,
Rotary Connection,
DNA,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Man Eating Sloth,
Smog,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
E-Dancer,
The Cowsills,
Erykah Badu,
Thompson Twins,
The Real Kids,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Barry Ungar,
Althea and Donna,
Prince Buster,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Black Flag,
Bauhaus,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kurtis Blow,
Isaac Hayes,
Neu!,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Last Poets,
Janne Schatter,
Sällskapet,
Severed Heads,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.