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 Monaco and from Tokyo.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Pop Group to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Erasure,
The Leaves,
the Bar-Kays,
Little Man,
Grey Daturas,
Altered Images,
Joe Smooth,
The Names,
John Holt,
One Last Wish,
Brothers Johnson,
The Selecter,
The Moleskins,
The Fall,
Sun Ra,
Ornette Coleman,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bang On A Can,
Boredoms,
A Flock of Seagulls,
D'Angelo,
The Seeds,
The Slackers,
Man Parrish,
Crooked Eye,
Man Eating Sloth,
Khruangbin,
Maleditus Sound,
Accadde A,
Eric Copeland,
Scratch Acid,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Minutemen,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Arthur Verocai,
Warsaw,
Judy Mowatt,
Tomorrow,
DJ Sneak,
Fad Gadget,
Drexciya,
Livin' Joy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Brass Construction,
The Vogues,
Todd Terry,
Joey Negro,
Von Mondo,
Yaz,
Harry Pussy,
Lower 48,
Sparks,
Quantec,
Susan Cadogan,
Marc Almond,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.