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 China and from Paris.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Judy Mowatt to the punk 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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Toasters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Bad Manners,
Angry Samoans,
Black Moon,
The Last Poets,
Man Parrish,
Simply Red,
Interpol,
F. McDonald,
kango's stein massive,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Brick,
Soulsonic Force,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Royal Trux,
Todd Rundgren,
Iggy Pop,
Scion,
Deadbeat,
Fugazi,
Black Flag,
Quantec,
The Fugs,
Bauhaus,
Banda Bassotti,
The Barracudas,
New York Dolls,
Main Source,
Groovy Waters,
The Beau Brummels,
Anakelly,
The Motions,
Piero Umiliani,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Johnny Clarke,
Tomorrow,
Crooked Eye,
China Crisis,
Cecil Taylor,
Mission of Burma,
Depeche Mode,
Ultimate Spinach,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Swell Maps,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Q and Not U,
Easy Going,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lou Reed,
The Standells,
Grandmaster Flash,
Oneida,
Cal Tjader,
Althea and Donna,
Alphaville,
The Blues Magoos,
Eric Dolphy,
Suicide,
Procol Harum,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Shoche,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.