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 Afghanistan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 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 Wire to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
the Fania All-Stars,
This Heat,
Von Mondo,
Rosa Yemen,
Soul II Soul,
Max Romeo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Janne Schatter,
Main Source,
Saccharine Trust,
Ten City,
Junior Murvin,
Don Cherry,
John Lydon,
Ossler,
Make Up,
The Divine Comedy,
Black Sheep,
The Victims,
Lou Christie,
Young Marble Giants,
the Soft Cell,
The Doobie Brothers,
Aswad,
Tres Demented,
Nico,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gong,
The Misunderstood,
The Techniques,
The Cowsills,
Porter Ricks,
The Smoke,
Kas Product,
The Durutti Column,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bad Manners,
Ornette Coleman,
Au Pairs,
the Germs,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lakeside,
Sex Pistols,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Zeros,
Marvin Gaye,
Whodini,
James White and The Blacks,
The Slits,
Jacob Miller,
Bang On A Can,
Black Bananas,
Pulsallama,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eve St. Jones,
10cc,
Rufus Thomas,
Donald Byrd,
Suburban Knight,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.