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 Qatar and from Taipei.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 arpeggiator 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 Wire to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
Sandy B,
The Offenders,
John Holt,
The Smiths,
Mandrill,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Motions,
Quadrant,
The Cure,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rites of Spring,
Marine Girls,
The Golliwogs,
Maurizio,
Audionom,
Black Moon,
Bush Tetras,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Evens,
Gang Starr,
Sparks,
Lightning Bolt,
The Moleskins,
Unwound,
Arthur Verocai,
Bill Wells,
Ralphi Rosario,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Five Americans,
Connie Case,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bob Dylan,
The Residents,
Danielle Patucci,
Section 25,
Half Japanese,
Ohio Players,
The Durutti Column,
The New Christs,
The Dirtbombs,
Marshall Jefferson,
Mars,
Tubeway Army,
The Saints,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Can,
Sonic Youth,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kayak,
Anakelly,
Amazonics,
Marc Almond,
Sonny Sharrock,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.