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 France and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Copenhagen.
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 D'Angelo to the punk 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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neu! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
Mad Mike,
Monks,
Faust,
Boredoms,
Faraquet,
The Zeros,
Danielle Patucci,
Darondo,
Scion,
Bronski Beat,
Mantronix,
Echospace,
Saccharine Trust,
Soul Sonic Force,
Graham Central Station,
Crooked Eye,
Gang Starr,
Pussy Galore,
James White and The Blacks,
Delta 5,
The Red Krayola,
Outsiders,
Alton Ellis,
Banda Bassotti,
Carl Craig,
Peter & Gordon,
New York Dolls,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Eric Dolphy,
One Last Wish,
Shoche,
Eddi Front,
The Tremeloes,
a-ha,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Warren Ellis,
The Electric Prunes,
the Swans,
Fat Boys,
U.S. Maple,
Barry Ungar,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Grandmaster Flash,
D'Angelo,
Arthur Verocai,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Harry Pussy,
The Cramps,
Don Cherry,
June of 44,
Mars,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Searchers,
The New Christs,
Dorothy Ashby,
PIL,
Youth Brigade,
Adolescents,
Henry Cow,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.