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 Dominica and from Cairo.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Henry Cow to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Main Source tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Talk Talk,
Delta 5,
Model 500,
Electric Prunes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
H. Thieme,
Jacques Brel,
Joyce Sims,
the Soft Cell,
Crash Course in Science,
Q65,
Erykah Badu,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Stooges,
Spoonie Gee,
Scrapy,
The Velvet Underground,
Thee Headcoats,
Radio Birdman,
Juan Atkins,
Marc Almond,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Silicon Teens,
Idris Muhammad,
Zero Boys,
Brick,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fugazi,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Television,
The Mojo Men,
Gichy Dan,
Gang Gang Dance,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Connie Case,
Soft Cell,
Scientists,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ash Ra Tempel,
10cc,
The Tremeloes,
the Slits,
Anakelly,
Unrelated Segments,
Bobby Byrd,
JFA,
Sonic Youth,
The Fall,
La Düsseldorf,
Jeru the Damaja,
Robert Görl,
Angry Samoans,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
X-Ray Spex,
Henry Cow,
Accadde A,
The Birthday Party,
Soulsonic Force,
Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio.
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.