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 Mongolia and from Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Brass Construction 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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Groovy Waters 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
This Heat,
Leonard Cohen,
Lalann,
Sällskapet,
Quando Quango,
The Toasters,
John Lydon,
Q65,
Ronan,
Morten Harket,
Shoche,
Moby Grape,
the Bar-Kays,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Albert Ayler,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Minor Threat,
Tom Boy,
The Happenings,
Tears for Fears,
Underground Resistance,
The Dave Clark Five,
Cheater Slicks,
Q and Not U,
Crooked Eye,
The Doors,
The Move,
Reagan Youth,
PIL,
Joensuu 1685,
Donald Byrd,
Hardrive,
Cabaret Voltaire,
X-102,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Hot Snakes,
U.S. Maple,
The Saints,
Liliput,
Bobby Womack,
H. Thieme,
Mary Jane Girls,
Zero Boys,
Fat Boys,
Sonic Youth,
Big Daddy Kane,
Eddi Front,
X-Ray Spex,
Babytalk,
Ohio Players,
DJ Sneak,
Throbbing Gristle,
Porter Ricks,
The Index,
The Black Dice,
Dead Boys,
Altered Images,
Roxy Music,
The Wake,
Guru Guru,
One Last Wish,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.