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 Kosovo and from Tokyo.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the güiro 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 Circle Jerks 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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
Grauzone,
Marc Almond,
8 Eyed Spy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bang On A Can,
Swell Maps,
Alison Limerick,
The Music Machine,
Lucky Dragons,
Jacques Brel,
Joe Finger,
The Doobie Brothers,
Smog,
Brick,
Sound Behaviour,
Scion,
Ludus,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Toasters,
Funky Four + One,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fat Boys,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Isaac Hayes,
Groovy Waters,
Sarah Menescal,
Sällskapet,
The Victims,
Joey Negro,
Scientists,
B.T. Express,
Blake Baxter,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kayak,
Pylon,
Joyce Sims,
kango's stein massive,
Freddie Wadling,
John Coltrane,
The Divine Comedy,
Scratch Acid,
Sonny Sharrock,
Wally Richardson,
Tom Boy,
The New Christs,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Kinks,
Gichy Dan,
Nik Kershaw,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Man Eating Sloth,
Barbara Tucker,
Boredoms,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Radiohead,
The Move,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ornette Coleman,
Bobby Byrd,
Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions.
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.