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 Malawi and from Paris.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Panda Bear to the grime 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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Velvet Underground,
Barry Ungar,
Monks,
The United States of America,
The Real Kids,
Flamin' Groovies,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dennis Brown,
Leonard Cohen,
ABBA,
The Count Five,
The Standells,
The Fuzztones,
Bobby Womack,
Cecil Taylor,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kurtis Blow,
Clear Light,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Byron Stingily,
Wasted Youth,
Subhumans,
the Soft Cell,
Fluxion,
The Move,
Livin' Joy,
The Young Rascals,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gregory Isaacs,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Warsaw,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kas Product,
Ossler,
Matthew Bourne,
Stetsasonic,
Goldenarms,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
John Holt,
Anakelly,
Fela Kuti,
Fear,
Mantronix,
Crime,
Sexual Harrassment,
Surgeon,
FM Einheit,
John Lydon,
Shuggie Otis,
The Monks,
Roxy Music,
Donald Byrd,
Stiv Bators,
Jandek,
The Music Machine,
Minny Pops,
The Happenings,
Organ,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Leaves,
Jerry's Kids,
Scratch Acid,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.