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 Slovakia and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Tropical Tobacco to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
The Fall,
the Slits,
Magma,
Jesper Dahlback,
Barrington Levy,
Mad Mike,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Zeros,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kerri Chandler,
Absolute Body Control,
Joey Negro,
David McCallum,
Dawn Penn,
The Kinks,
Lower 48,
R.M.O.,
These Immortal Souls,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Danielle Patucci,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Anakelly,
Whodini,
Gang Starr,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Fugs,
Country Teasers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Anthony Braxton,
The Tremeloes,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rekid,
Robert Wyatt,
X-101,
Avey Tare,
Aswad,
Soul II Soul,
Arcadia,
Alice Coltrane,
Duran Duran,
Brick,
The Vogues,
The Flesh Eaters,
Youth Brigade,
The Residents,
Rotary Connection,
Robert Hood,
Sonny Sharrock,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Chris Corsano,
ABBA,
Kas Product,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The J.B.'s,
The Barracudas,
Organ,
John Lydon,
Surgeon,
Hasil Adkins,
Swell Maps,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.