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 Namibia and from Lyon.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Y Pants to the grunge 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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Simply Red,
Siglo XX,
The Leaves,
the Fania All-Stars,
Slave,
Lalann,
Judy Mowatt,
Country Teasers,
Brothers Johnson,
X-Ray Spex,
Rufus Thomas,
The Slits,
Eric Dolphy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Black Dice,
The Doors,
Heaven 17,
FM Einheit,
Drive Like Jehu,
Patti Smith,
Easy Going,
Max Romeo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Terrestrial Tones,
Malaria!,
Swans,
Maurizio,
Radio Birdman,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Accadde A,
MDC,
Dave Gahan,
Panda Bear,
Sugar Minott,
Scratch Acid,
Dark Day,
Unrelated Segments,
Eddi Front,
Josef K,
Pantaleimon,
MC5,
Ralphi Rosario,
Avey Tare,
Eric B and Rakim,
Charles Mingus,
Intrusion,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Delon & Dalcan,
Swell Maps,
Soulsonic Force,
B.T. Express,
Henry Cow,
Soul II Soul,
Index,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ken Boothe,
Gang Gang Dance,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.