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 Germany and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 PIL to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Wasted Youth,
Harmonia,
Joe Finger,
Black Pus,
Icehouse,
Marshall Jefferson,
Cluster,
Freddie Wadling,
Stetsasonic,
Chris Corsano,
Bill Near,
The New Christs,
Porter Ricks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fad Gadget,
Eurythmics,
The Neon Judgement,
Severed Heads,
Underground Resistance,
JFA,
La Düsseldorf,
Black Flag,
John Lydon,
Deadbeat,
Josef K,
the Sonics,
Aswad,
Ultra Naté,
Henry Cow,
Hardrive,
Anthony Braxton,
Nico,
Theoretical Girls,
Peter & Gordon,
Byron Stingily,
The Red Krayola,
Sarah Menescal,
The Beau Brummels,
Marvin Gaye,
Alice Coltrane,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
DJ Style,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Selecter,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Monochrome Set,
The Count Five,
Aaron Thompson,
The Stooges,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
ABBA,
Derrick Morgan,
The Remains,
Glenn Branca,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Mr. Review,
Adolescents,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.