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 Kosovo and from Mumbai.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Pet Shop Boys to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Crispy Ambulance,
Glenn Branca,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Crash Course in Science,
The J.B.'s,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Joy Division,
Mo-Dettes,
The Index,
The Stooges,
Soft Machine,
Reuben Wilson,
Yusef Lateef,
Liliput,
The Invisible,
The Gladiators,
Trumans Water,
The Angels of Light,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ronnie Foster,
Tres Demented,
The Grass Roots,
Donny Hathaway,
Brass Construction,
Aswad,
Masters at Work,
Robert Wyatt,
F. McDonald,
John Foxx,
Alphaville,
Ludus,
John Lydon,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Al Stewart,
Angry Samoans,
Fat Boys,
The Dirtbombs,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Josef K,
Rekid,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Boredoms,
These Immortal Souls,
Altered Images,
Bad Manners,
John Coltrane,
Ossler,
DNA,
It's A Beautiful Day,
PIL,
The Buckinghams,
Aloha Tigers,
One Last Wish,
The Monks,
Aural Exciters,
Michelle Simonal,
Nas,
Lalann,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.