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 Brunei 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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Black Dice 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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Television,
Piero Umiliani,
Ronnie Foster,
The Monks,
Sixth Finger,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Slackers,
Zapp,
Wire,
kango's stein massive,
Fugazi,
Kas Product,
The Birthday Party,
X-Ray Spex,
Gregory Isaacs,
John Holt,
Hardrive,
Erykah Badu,
Junior Murvin,
Susan Cadogan,
Erasure,
Swans,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sister Nancy,
Byron Stingily,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Maurizio,
Spoonie Gee,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ornette Coleman,
the Soft Cell,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Dark Day,
Gang Starr,
Bang On A Can,
Minny Pops,
Prince Buster,
Lee Hazlewood,
Tubeway Army,
Ohio Players,
Cal Tjader,
Barry Ungar,
Gastr Del Sol,
Stiv Bators,
Von Mondo,
The Leaves,
June Days,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ralphi Rosario,
Basic Channel,
Youth Brigade,
Jerry's Kids,
Glambeats Corp.,
Faraquet,
Kerri Chandler,
Soulsonic Force,
Accadde A,
John Lydon,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.