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 Vanuatu and from Seoul.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the organ 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the rock 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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads 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 snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Infiniti,
Anthony Braxton,
Freddie Wadling,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ken Boothe,
Subhumans,
The Monks,
The Gladiators,
Jeff Mills,
Roxy Music,
Gang Starr,
Marcia Griffiths,
Das Ding,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Normal,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Negative Approach,
Nils Olav,
The Divine Comedy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Searchers,
Steve Hackett,
Lungfish,
The Grass Roots,
Ten City,
The Techniques,
Ornette Coleman,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Saccharine Trust,
June of 44,
Drexciya,
Max Romeo,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Hashim,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Index,
Ronnie Foster,
Chris & Cosey,
The Star Department,
X-101,
Isaac Hayes,
Cal Tjader,
Wire,
Adolescents,
The Smoke,
Parry Music,
The Black Dice,
Agitation Free,
Stockholm Monsters,
Erasure,
Nation of Ulysses,
Minny Pops,
Whodini,
Tommy Roe,
kango's stein massive,
Nirvana,
Mark Hollis,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.