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 Delhi.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Outsiders to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Larry & the Blue Notes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Subhumans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Bar-Kays,
Fugazi,
The Smiths,
Technova,
Mark Hollis,
Ten City,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Charles Mingus,
Laurel Aitken,
The Fortunes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Litter,
Altered Images,
Todd Rundgren,
the Swans,
Black Bananas,
The Offenders,
Tres Demented,
Godley & Creme,
The Stooges,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Niagra,
World's Most,
Pierre Henry,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rotary Connection,
Yaz,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bush Tetras,
Dennis Brown,
Man Parrish,
Symarip,
Rod Modell,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Television,
Black Sheep,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bauhaus,
U.S. Maple,
Ronnie Foster,
Infiniti,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Cybotron,
Mo-Dettes,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Blancmange,
Wire,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Brand Nubian,
The Angels of Light,
H. Thieme,
the Germs,
Tomorrow,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rosa Yemen,
Fluxion,
Vladislav Delay,
Henry Cow,
Sound Behaviour,
The Neon Judgement,
X-102,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.