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 Haiti and from Lyon.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Shanghai.
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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the organ 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Delon & Dalcan. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joyce Sims,
The American Breed,
Hardrive,
Monks,
Pussy Galore,
Tears for Fears,
Ituana,
Letta Mbulu,
Pole,
Brass Construction,
Simply Red,
Saccharine Trust,
Subhumans,
JFA,
Marcia Griffiths,
F. McDonald,
Al Stewart,
The Monks,
Ken Boothe,
Sällskapet,
Bobby Byrd,
U.S. Maple,
Soft Machine,
Metal Thangz,
The Pretty Things,
Bang On A Can,
Unrelated Segments,
Sonic Youth,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ice-T,
Eden Ahbez,
Theoretical Girls,
Tomorrow,
Glenn Branca,
Unwound,
Lee Hazlewood,
Brand Nubian,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Knickerbockers,
Excepter,
Heaven 17,
Technova,
Parry Music,
Pierre Henry,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Walker Brothers,
Scott Walker,
Faraquet,
Kaleidoscope,
The Mojo Men,
Matthew Halsall,
Whodini,
T.S.O.L.,
Robert Hood,
Nik Kershaw,
June Days,
Gil Scott Heron,
Popol Vuh,
The Slits,
Altered Images,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.