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 Ireland and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 La Düsseldorf to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lakeside 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
The Flesh Eaters,
Harmonia,
Ultravox,
Harpers Bizarre,
Newcleus,
Joe Smooth,
Dual Sessions,
Pantytec,
Robert Görl,
Siglo XX,
Man Eating Sloth,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Y Pants,
Porter Ricks,
Black Bananas,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Japan,
Buzzcocks,
China Crisis,
Gang Green,
Motorama,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Flamin' Groovies,
Dawn Penn,
Nico,
Circle Jerks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Minnie Riperton,
Massinfluence,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Arab on Radar,
Bootsy Collins,
Shoche,
Banda Bassotti,
David McCallum,
The Skatalites,
Minor Threat,
Gang Gang Dance,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Robert Wyatt,
Rapeman,
Bob Dylan,
Donny Hathaway,
Amon Düül II,
Traffic Nightmare,
Severed Heads,
Soft Cell,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Panda Bear,
Brass Construction,
Aswad,
Nirvana,
The American Breed,
John Lydon,
The Cramps,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Liliput,
Ituana,
The Misunderstood,
The Cure,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.