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 Mongolia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 clarinet 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 Dead Boys to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown 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 sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doors record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Sex Pistols,
The Music Machine,
Traffic Nightmare,
Yaz,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eve St. Jones,
Jandek,
The Evens,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Frankie Knuckles,
Janne Schatter,
Buzzcocks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Selecter,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Public Image Ltd.,
Nirvana,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bob Dylan,
The Real Kids,
Bootsy Collins,
T. Rex,
The Leaves,
Davy DMX,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Blake Baxter,
Joensuu 1685,
Joy Division,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bill Near,
The Happenings,
Ice-T,
Pulsallama,
Marcia Griffiths,
Crooked Eye,
Eric Copeland,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Remains,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Amon Düül II,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kool Moe Dee,
Arab on Radar,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Colin Newman,
Alphaville,
Gerry Rafferty,
David Axelrod,
The Modern Lovers,
Amon Düül,
The Associates,
Pussy Galore,
Funkadelic,
New Order,
Scion,
The Cure,
DJ Sneak,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.