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 Canada and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Intrusion to the dance 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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jandek,
The Kinks,
Steve Hackett,
Lyres,
Robert Görl,
Minor Threat,
Tomorrow,
Loose Ends,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Roger Hodgson,
The Monks,
The Fire Engines,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Siglo XX,
Jacob Miller,
Lucky Dragons,
Banda Bassotti,
Rufus Thomas,
Aaron Thompson,
X-Ray Spex,
Sun City Girls,
David Bowie,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Girls At Our Best!,
Nils Olav,
Wire,
Unwound,
Ronan,
Kevin Saunderson,
Dark Day,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sparks,
Suicide,
Blancmange,
Donny Hathaway,
Ultimate Spinach,
KRS-One,
Drexciya,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Moss Icon,
The Music Machine,
Glenn Branca,
Sarah Menescal,
Subhumans,
Ultravox,
Joey Negro,
Alphaville,
Maurizio,
Buzzcocks,
Arcadia,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Masters at Work,
Fela Kuti,
The Searchers,
Surgeon,
Eli Mardock,
Guru Guru,
Charles Mingus,
Agitation Free,
Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee.
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.