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 Eritrea and from Portland.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 J.B.'s to the punk 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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
the Germs,
Boz Scaggs,
Bobby Byrd,
Pantaleimon,
Motorama,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Aswad,
The Toasters,
Amon Düül II,
Crispian St. Peters,
Country Teasers,
Prince Buster,
Oneida,
Lalann,
Popol Vuh,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
JFA,
Sixth Finger,
Cymande,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Patti Smith,
Morten Harket,
Scion,
The United States of America,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Robert Görl,
Gichy Dan,
Essential Logic,
Bobby Sherman,
Wire,
The Tremeloes,
kango's stein massive,
The Evens,
Joe Finger,
The Smiths,
Tom Boy,
Scrapy,
Johnny Osbourne,
Althea and Donna,
Grey Daturas,
Matthew Bourne,
Glenn Branca,
The Skatalites,
the Human League,
The Alarm Clocks,
Skarface,
ABC,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bad Manners,
Nirvana,
Roxy Music,
the Sonics,
The Slits,
Radio Birdman,
Flash Fearless,
Bluetip,
Masters at Work,
Underground Resistance,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.