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 Uganda and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the snare 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 The Stooges to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Black Bananas,
Surgeon,
Underground Resistance,
Minor Threat,
Silicon Teens,
U.S. Maple,
Excepter,
The Smiths,
Severed Heads,
Cameo,
Curtis Mayfield,
Yellowson,
Isaac Hayes,
Fear,
Al Stewart,
Country Teasers,
Swans,
The Victims,
These Immortal Souls,
Cluster,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Sonics,
The Blackbyrds,
Section 25,
Subhumans,
Ohio Players,
The Shadows of Knight,
Negative Approach,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pierre Henry,
Massinfluence,
Eli Mardock,
Sunsets and Hearts,
K-Klass,
Gong,
June of 44,
Infiniti,
Lucky Dragons,
Motorama,
The Red Krayola,
Archie Shepp,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Deadbeat,
The Monks,
The Alarm Clocks,
X-102,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Flesh Eaters,
Y Pants,
Saccharine Trust,
New York Dolls,
Hot Snakes,
Lebanon Hanover,
Crispy Ambulance,
DNA,
Erasure,
Franke,
Deakin,
Mary Jane Girls,
Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez.
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.