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 Lebanon and from Tokyo.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 sitar 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the rap 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 Section 25. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Junior Murvin,
The Walker Brothers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bobby Womack,
Hot Snakes,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nirvana,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Seeds,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Con Funk Shun,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Monks,
The Gun Club,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Normal,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Blues Magoos,
Tears for Fears,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The New Christs,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Juan Atkins,
Lalo Schifrin,
Outsiders,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Standells,
MDC,
This Heat,
Suicide,
Carl Craig,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Alphaville,
Moebius,
World's Most,
Josef K,
Can,
Swans,
Duran Duran,
Deadbeat,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pagans,
Peter & Gordon,
The Black Dice,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lalann,
Traffic Nightmare,
Chris & Cosey,
Jacob Miller,
Accadde A,
Radio Birdman,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Misunderstood,
Skarface,
Terrestrial Tones,
Depeche Mode,
John Cale,
The Gories,
The Red Krayola,
The Dead C,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.