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 Dominican Republic and from Taipei.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Mantronix to the grunge 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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Alison Limerick,
Skarface,
Kenny Larkin,
Scratch Acid,
Howard Jones,
The Young Rascals,
the Association,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Agent Orange,
The Cramps,
Danielle Patucci,
Throbbing Gristle,
Cameo,
Underground Resistance,
Essential Logic,
Ludus,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Dorothy Ashby,
Flipper,
The Sound,
James White and The Blacks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Saints,
the Swans,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Graham Central Station,
The Detroit Cobras,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lyres,
The Monks,
Malaria!,
Boredoms,
the Bar-Kays,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Dave Clark Five,
T.S.O.L.,
Intrusion,
Metal Thangz,
Procol Harum,
Monks,
The Skatalites,
Hasil Adkins,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Selecter,
The Flesh Eaters,
Oneida,
Terry Callier,
Rites of Spring,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Patti Smith,
PIL,
Deepchord,
Dawn Penn,
Severed Heads,
Bizarre Inc.,
Don Cherry,
Pulsallama,
The Barracudas,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.