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 Liechtenstein and from Bologna.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Captain Beefheart 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 The Misunderstood to the funk 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 Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The J.B.'s,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Detroit Cobras,
Angry Samoans,
Eric Copeland,
James White and The Blacks,
Alice Coltrane,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ralphi Rosario,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Magma,
Boz Scaggs,
Ronnie Foster,
Delta 5,
Siglo XX,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Roxette,
Sam Rivers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Move,
Agent Orange,
Funkadelic,
Soft Machine,
Faraquet,
The Electric Prunes,
The Martian,
ABC,
The Victims,
Jerry's Kids,
Sonic Youth,
The Monochrome Set,
Ituana,
Jeru the Damaja,
Johnny Clarke,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Flash Fearless,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Max Romeo,
Yusef Lateef,
The Gap Band,
X-101,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sparks,
Maleditus Sound,
Piero Umiliani,
The Durutti Column,
DJ Sneak,
Jandek,
Popol Vuh,
Jacques Brel,
Hashim,
Eden Ahbez,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The United States of America,
Rosa Yemen,
Porter Ricks,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Isaac Hayes,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.