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 Georgia and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 snare 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 Kevin Saunderson to the electroclash 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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mark Hollis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Todd Terry,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Delta 5,
The Sonics,
Oneida,
UT,
Ultimate Spinach,
10cc,
Ornette Coleman,
Tres Demented,
Gabor Szabo,
The Electric Prunes,
This Heat,
The Residents,
D'Angelo,
Jeff Mills,
Deadbeat,
Au Pairs,
The Associates,
Unrelated Segments,
CMW,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Pretty Things,
Royal Trux,
The Slackers,
The Last Poets,
Simply Red,
Andrew Hill,
Con Funk Shun,
Tom Boy,
Albert Ayler,
Faraquet,
Althea and Donna,
Joe Smooth,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cameo,
Adolescents,
Ronan,
Fear,
Scott Walker,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Marine Girls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Camberwell Now,
Mandrill,
Crime,
The Durutti Column,
Kool Moe Dee,
John Coltrane,
Hasil Adkins,
The Busters,
The Mojo Men,
Ice-T,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Fuzztones,
Buzzcocks,
Judy Mowatt,
Barry Ungar,
Outsiders,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.