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 Nigeria and from Portland.
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 New York and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Model 500 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
The Cure,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Harry Pussy,
Rapeman,
The Raincoats,
The Gun Club,
Qualms,
Kerri Chandler,
Monolake,
The Victims,
Bronski Beat,
the Human League,
Ronnie Foster,
Steve Hackett,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Carl Craig,
Susan Cadogan,
Massinfluence,
Nick Fraelich,
Pagans,
Monks,
Hot Snakes,
Pantytec,
Khruangbin,
The Star Department,
Althea and Donna,
The Neon Judgement,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Chris & Cosey,
The Gories,
Y Pants,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Fuzztones,
Slave,
a-ha,
Marmalade,
Donald Byrd,
The Martian,
Dawn Penn,
The Angels of Light,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Throbbing Gristle,
Can,
The Moleskins,
Surgeon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
10cc,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Dead Boys,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Pretty Things,
John Cale,
Gang of Four,
The Dirtbombs,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Todd Rundgren,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.