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 Ukraine and from Houston.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 New York Dolls to the electroclash 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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
Howard Jones,
Sällskapet,
The Moody Blues,
Tres Demented,
X-102,
Stockholm Monsters,
Wasted Youth,
Nik Kershaw,
The Electric Prunes,
Inner City,
A Certain Ratio,
Hardrive,
Pantytec,
Drexciya,
Eddi Front,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Vainqueur,
The Fuzztones,
Unrelated Segments,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lalo Schifrin,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tommy Roe,
Reuben Wilson,
China Crisis,
Lungfish,
The Names,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
T. Rex,
Con Funk Shun,
Sonic Youth,
Swans,
The Fire Engines,
The Blackbyrds,
Average White Band,
Reagan Youth,
The Beau Brummels,
Masters at Work,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
ABBA,
cv313,
Pulsallama,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The United States of America,
Bill Wells,
the Sonics,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Slackers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Index,
Amon Düül II,
The Saints,
Albert Ayler,
Soft Machine,
Siglo XX,
Japan,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.