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 Andorra and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 linndrum 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 The Gun Club to the punk 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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jimmy McGriff record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lou Christie,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Roger Hodgson,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Mo-Dettes,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Last Poets,
Skriet,
Inner City,
Marine Girls,
Faust,
Aswad,
Soulsonic Force,
Tubeway Army,
Pagans,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Swell Maps,
Bauhaus,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Dark Day,
The Moody Blues,
Q65,
X-101,
Todd Rundgren,
Sonic Youth,
Japan,
Eve St. Jones,
Niagra,
Scratch Acid,
Das Ding,
Dead Boys,
The Monks,
Eddi Front,
The Misunderstood,
Don Cherry,
Motorama,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ossler,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Roxy Music,
The Names,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Freddie Wadling,
Kool Moe Dee,
Second Layer,
Underground Resistance,
Tommy Roe,
Black Moon,
John Cale,
Idris Muhammad,
Dorothy Ashby,
L. Decosne,
Connie Case,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Fugs,
Boz Scaggs,
Sparks,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.