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 Angola and from Edmonton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 DeepChord presents Echospace to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
Hasil Adkins,
Black Pus,
Nick Fraelich,
Agent Orange,
Fugazi,
The Monks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ponytail,
The Five Americans,
Robert Hood,
The Beau Brummels,
Sun Ra,
Swell Maps,
Y Pants,
Barclay James Harvest,
DNA,
Black Sheep,
Judy Mowatt,
Joey Negro,
Pylon,
The Tremeloes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Henry Cow,
K-Klass,
Absolute Body Control,
The Black Dice,
John Holt,
kango's stein massive,
Negative Approach,
A Certain Ratio,
The Vogues,
Basic Channel,
Big Daddy Kane,
Half Japanese,
The Golliwogs,
Sound Behaviour,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lakeside,
Skaos,
Franke,
the Swans,
Arcadia,
Man Parrish,
Mantronix,
Pantytec,
Donny Hathaway,
The Monochrome Set,
UT,
Zero Boys,
Maurizio,
Byron Stingily,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
ABBA,
Ultravox,
Roxette,
The American Breed,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.