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 St Lucia and from Manchester.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Hasil Adkins to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Josef K record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Jacques Brel,
Sonic Youth,
the Germs,
Marc Almond,
Negative Approach,
Smog,
Can,
Harmonia,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Boredoms,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Sonics,
Tres Demented,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Victims,
Wally Richardson,
Zero Boys,
Von Mondo,
Joyce Sims,
Henry Cow,
Jandek,
Roger Hodgson,
Minny Pops,
Pantytec,
The Smiths,
Basic Channel,
the Swans,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Los Fastidios,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Thee Headcoats,
The Electric Prunes,
Agitation Free,
The Last Poets,
Michelle Simonal,
Gerry Rafferty,
Colin Newman,
Hashim,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Drive Like Jehu,
Joey Negro,
Ralphi Rosario,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
KRS-One,
Soul Sonic Force,
FM Einheit,
Model 500,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Amazonics,
Banda Bassotti,
Magma,
The Dave Clark Five,
Grauzone,
The Move,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Happenings,
MDC,
John Coltrane,
Stockholm Monsters,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Saccharine Trust,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.