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 Algeria and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Fortunes to the crunk 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 Japan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maurizio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
Eve St. Jones,
Tommy Roe,
Dark Day,
Faust,
Sonny Sharrock,
Tubeway Army,
Unrelated Segments,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wolf Eyes,
Yellowson,
Alison Limerick,
Siglo XX,
the Soft Cell,
Circle Jerks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jeff Lynne,
Thompson Twins,
Matthew Bourne,
Porter Ricks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Robert Görl,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Germs,
Don Cherry,
The Fire Engines,
Adolescents,
Rufus Thomas,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Terrestrial Tones,
Monks,
Fluxion,
Underground Resistance,
Pere Ubu,
Black Pus,
The Music Machine,
Marmalade,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Albert Ayler,
Sixth Finger,
EPMD,
Nation of Ulysses,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ultravox,
Janne Schatter,
The Fugs,
Royal Trux,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Black Dice,
The Seeds,
The Slits,
Supertramp,
Yazoo,
Chris Corsano,
Sound Behaviour,
The Smiths,
The Blackbyrds,
Morten Harket,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.