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 Tunisia and from Glasgow.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Desert Stars to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Soft Cell,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ralphi Rosario,
Saccharine Trust,
The Detroit Cobras,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Glambeats Corp.,
Young Marble Giants,
Reuben Wilson,
Sun City Girls,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Accadde A,
Marine Girls,
Sex Pistols,
Cameo,
Black Moon,
La Düsseldorf,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Martian,
the Association,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Charles Mingus,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
U.S. Maple,
Zapp,
John Foxx,
Idris Muhammad,
The Blues Magoos,
Albert Ayler,
FM Einheit,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Agent Orange,
The Slackers,
Flipper,
Sly & The Family Stone,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ossler,
Lou Christie,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Anakelly,
A Certain Ratio,
Radio Birdman,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Urselle,
Delta 5,
Amon Düül II,
Duran Duran,
Bush Tetras,
Deakin,
Ice-T,
Negative Approach,
Dorothy Ashby,
Metal Thangz,
The Standells,
Joey Negro,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Skriet,
Crispy Ambulance,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48.
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.