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 Taiwan and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the organ 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 Half Japanese to the dance 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 Leonard Cohen. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Audionom record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
LL Cool J,
Rosa Yemen,
The Trojans,
Lakeside,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Janne Schatter,
Reagan Youth,
The Kinks,
Swell Maps,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Smoke,
Deakin,
Sister Nancy,
Spoonie Gee,
Skriet,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
David Bowie,
Camberwell Now,
The Dead C,
Oblivians,
Ronnie Foster,
U.S. Maple,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jacob Miller,
Brick,
Little Man,
The Pop Group,
Pylon,
Sex Pistols,
The Names,
Talk Talk,
Marine Girls,
Masters at Work,
Johnny Clarke,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Circle Jerks,
The New Christs,
the Slits,
This Heat,
Scratch Acid,
Wire,
These Immortal Souls,
Marc Almond,
Deadbeat,
Symarip,
Motorama,
Mandrill,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ice-T,
Soul Sonic Force,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Litter,
The Walker Brothers,
Man Parrish,
Eric Copeland,
Yazoo,
Rapeman,
Sonny Sharrock,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.