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 Eritrea and from Seoul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 harpsichord 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 Robert Wyatt to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All Erasure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Black Dice,
U.S. Maple,
Lebanon Hanover,
Wally Richardson,
ABBA,
Tomorrow,
The Toasters,
Goldenarms,
Barry Ungar,
Skarface,
The Dirtbombs,
Lindisfarne,
Minutemen,
The Standells,
Procol Harum,
Eric Copeland,
R.M.O.,
Yazoo,
KRS-One,
The Star Department,
Flash Fearless,
Eyeless In Gaza,
UT,
Bobby Womack,
Make Up,
Grauzone,
Alison Limerick,
Quadrant,
Bauhaus,
Deepchord,
Pantytec,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Judy Mowatt,
MC5,
Chrome,
Crash Course in Science,
The Durutti Column,
The Blues Magoos,
Television Personalities,
The Zeros,
Alice Coltrane,
Ralphi Rosario,
Yusef Lateef,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Visage,
Ohio Players,
Talk Talk,
Lucky Dragons,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Robert Hood,
Suicide,
Sparks,
The Divine Comedy,
Slave,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Wolf Eyes,
Model 500,
F. McDonald,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.