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 Tunisia and from Bremen.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Malaria! 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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Rapeman,
Todd Rundgren,
Ronnie Foster,
Ossler,
Tom Boy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Heaven 17,
Faraquet,
Bobby Sherman,
Index,
Hashim,
The Move,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Barclay James Harvest,
Soul Sonic Force,
Black Bananas,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Dirtbombs,
Trumans Water,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Fela Kuti,
Y Pants,
Delon & Dalcan,
Nico,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
T.S.O.L.,
Aural Exciters,
Kool Moe Dee,
Crash Course in Science,
Camouflage,
Chrome,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bootsy Collins,
Ponytail,
Warren Ellis,
Massinfluence,
Judy Mowatt,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Prince Buster,
The Music Machine,
The United States of America,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Guru Guru,
The Sonics,
Severed Heads,
Mars,
Sonic Youth,
Visage,
Theoretical Girls,
Niagra,
The Evens,
Bluetip,
Royal Trux,
The Searchers,
Pylon,
Crime,
Minny Pops,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Television,
Q and Not U,
The Golliwogs,
Blake Baxter,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.