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 Swaziland and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Gerry Rafferty to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gichy Dan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move 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?
New Age Steppers,
Magma,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Fugs,
China Crisis,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Donny Hathaway,
Sister Nancy,
Black Bananas,
Bootsy Collins,
Hoover,
The Evens,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Delta 5,
Monks,
Neu!,
Ultimate Spinach,
Icehouse,
Neil Young,
Bauhaus,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ralphi Rosario,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Amon Düül,
The Slits,
Swans,
The Buckinghams,
Whodini,
Pierre Henry,
Marmalade,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Dead Boys,
Sugar Minott,
a-ha,
The Knickerbockers,
Unwound,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Severed Heads,
Scrapy,
Moby Grape,
Brothers Johnson,
K-Klass,
Eve St. Jones,
Reagan Youth,
The Martian,
Infiniti,
Chris Corsano,
The Dirtbombs,
Lee Hazlewood,
Connie Case,
The Misunderstood,
Girls At Our Best!,
T. Rex,
The Pop Group,
Los Fastidios,
Hasil Adkins,
the Human League,
June Days,
Bang On A Can,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.