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 United States and from Jakarta.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Laurel Aitken to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool Moe Dee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Searchers,
Robert Wyatt,
Lou Reed,
The Angels of Light,
Bob Dylan,
Scion,
Buzzcocks,
Yazoo,
Marine Girls,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
the Slits,
KRS-One,
Yusef Lateef,
Youth Brigade,
Blancmange,
Porter Ricks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Dead C,
X-102,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Young Rascals,
Malaria!,
Reagan Youth,
Little Man,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The J.B.'s,
Los Fastidios,
Drive Like Jehu,
Stiv Bators,
Smog,
Slick Rick,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Donald Byrd,
The Electric Prunes,
Skriet,
E-Dancer,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Wasted Youth,
B.T. Express,
The Modern Lovers,
Pagans,
Lower 48,
The Knickerbockers,
MC5,
The Fall,
Warsaw,
JFA,
Sandy B,
Flamin' Groovies,
Cymande,
Warren Ellis,
Faust,
The Barracudas,
Eric Dolphy,
Hoover,
Marc Almond,
Brick,
Fad Gadget,
Chrome,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.