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 Burkina and from Cairo.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Monks to the jazz 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 The Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
Radio Birdman,
The Sonics,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Knickerbockers,
New York Dolls,
The Stooges,
Brick,
The Toasters,
The Pretty Things,
Brothers Johnson,
Bush Tetras,
The Fuzztones,
Monks,
Underground Resistance,
Jawbox,
The Smoke,
Aloha Tigers,
Eli Mardock,
Derrick May,
Drive Like Jehu,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ohio Players,
Morten Harket,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Susan Cadogan,
The Durutti Column,
Aaron Thompson,
Rapeman,
Symarip,
Main Source,
Mandrill,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Victims,
The Selecter,
China Crisis,
Man Eating Sloth,
MC5,
Alphaville,
PIL,
Deakin,
John Holt,
Gerry Rafferty,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Reuben Wilson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Yusef Lateef,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
48th St. Collective,
Wasted Youth,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Mad Mike,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Dave Clark Five,
UT,
Intrusion,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Human League,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.