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 Gambia and from Beijing.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin 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 Loose Ends to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lyres record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Babytalk,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Faust,
Lalann,
Desert Stars,
The Gun Club,
Cecil Taylor,
Barclay James Harvest,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Wings,
Ice-T,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ludus,
The Fire Engines,
Aswad,
Kurtis Blow,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Velvet Underground,
Byron Stingily,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lower 48,
Toni Rubio,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Man Parrish,
Mars,
Lakeside,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lou Christie,
Hasil Adkins,
Gang Gang Dance,
X-Ray Spex,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ken Boothe,
Jacob Miller,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Dead Boys,
Blancmange,
Funky Four + One,
The Walker Brothers,
Joe Smooth,
The Grass Roots,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Tubeway Army,
Crime,
Lyres,
The Kinks,
Chris & Cosey,
John Holt,
Dual Sessions,
Roxy Music,
The Pretty Things,
Oblivians,
Don Cherry,
Flash Fearless,
Sällskapet,
The Alarm Clocks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.