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 New Zealand and from Sao Paulo.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Wally Richardson to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
The Toasters,
The Five Americans,
Bauhaus,
The Human League,
Matthew Bourne,
The Kinks,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Blackbyrds,
Alice Coltrane,
Quadrant,
The Doobie Brothers,
H. Thieme,
Don Cherry,
Bang On A Can,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Divine Comedy,
Fat Boys,
Circle Jerks,
Minor Threat,
Fad Gadget,
Lungfish,
Man Eating Sloth,
Erasure,
Gil Scott Heron,
Anakelly,
These Immortal Souls,
Pantaleimon,
Janne Schatter,
MDC,
Blancmange,
The Residents,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gang of Four,
Steve Hackett,
Porter Ricks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
R.M.O.,
Alton Ellis,
Sun City Girls,
Vladislav Delay,
Schoolly D,
The Cramps,
Scratch Acid,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Moby Grape,
Q and Not U,
Gichy Dan,
Joy Division,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lyres,
Roxy Music,
Altered Images,
Alison Limerick,
Mo-Dettes,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Smoke,
Heaven 17,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.