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 Syria and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Smoke to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
Rekid,
ABC,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Simply Red,
Clear Light,
The Sonics,
Kayak,
New Order,
Camouflage,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Mandrill,
The Dead C,
The J.B.'s,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Remains,
Toni Rubio,
Fugazi,
Lebanon Hanover,
Faraquet,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lightning Bolt,
The Techniques,
The Raincoats,
In Retrospect,
Aaron Thompson,
Pagans,
Bang On A Can,
a-ha,
Nils Olav,
Don Cherry,
Crooked Eye,
The Victims,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
La Düsseldorf,
Gastr Del Sol,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Quando Quango,
James White and The Blacks,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Gories,
Brass Construction,
Hoover,
cv313,
Whodini,
Grandmaster Flash,
Albert Ayler,
The Fugs,
Dennis Brown,
Black Sheep,
Visage,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Marshall Jefferson,
Warren Ellis,
Sister Nancy,
Radiohead,
Jeff Mills,
Main Source,
Black Flag,
The Litter,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.