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 Malawi and from Beijing.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Kas Product to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Delon & Dalcan. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lee Hazlewood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
Tres Demented,
Johnny Osbourne,
Moby Grape,
Talk Talk,
Fugazi,
Harry Pussy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Khruangbin,
The Motions,
Eddi Front,
Kurtis Blow,
The Seeds,
Duran Duran,
The Stooges,
The Gories,
Ohio Players,
Jacques Brel,
Rosa Yemen,
T. Rex,
Inner City,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
ABC,
the Slits,
Zapp,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Barbara Tucker,
Animal Collective,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Roxette,
Funky Four + One,
Neil Young,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Mummies,
Gang of Four,
the Normal,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Last Poets,
Fela Kuti,
Heaven 17,
Robert Hood,
T.S.O.L.,
Y Pants,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Morten Harket,
The Young Rascals,
Babytalk,
June Days,
Marvin Gaye,
ABBA,
Quantec,
John Coltrane,
Wasted Youth,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Oneida,
Shoche,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Busters,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Banda Bassotti,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.