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 Jordan and from New York.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Au Pairs,
Magma,
Jawbox,
Cheater Slicks,
Moebius,
Rakim,
Scratch Acid,
Livin' Joy,
Wally Richardson,
Joe Finger,
KRS-One,
Blancmange,
Toni Rubio,
Sixth Finger,
Faust,
The Five Americans,
The Pretty Things,
the Human League,
Kerrie Biddell,
Girls At Our Best!,
Grey Daturas,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Black Dice,
Inner City,
The Sonics,
Grauzone,
The Grass Roots,
Cameo,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Tomorrow,
New Age Steppers,
Easy Going,
Junior Murvin,
Donny Hathaway,
Gichy Dan,
Mo-Dettes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Cowsills,
Rites of Spring,
48th St. Collective,
Anakelly,
Zapp,
The Monks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The New Christs,
Tim Buckley,
Kool Moe Dee,
Soul Sonic Force,
Mantronix,
Marshall Jefferson,
Drexciya,
Technova,
the Swans,
The Smoke,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mars,
the Germs,
Gang of Four,
The Flesh Eaters,
Joy Division,
Kaleidoscope,
D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo.
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.