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 Turkmenistan and from Jakarta.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 marimba 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 Sex Pistols to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Sex Pistols,
Graham Central Station,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Moebius,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kerri Chandler,
Cybotron,
Jandek,
Sunsets and Hearts,
In Retrospect,
Wally Richardson,
Surgeon,
The Misunderstood,
The Standells,
Pharoah Sanders,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Cramps,
Circle Jerks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Dead C,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sixth Finger,
Erasure,
The Durutti Column,
Stetsasonic,
Loose Ends,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Roxy Music,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bobby Sherman,
Darondo,
Blancmange,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Names,
ABC,
Bang On A Can,
Fat Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Make Up,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Monks,
Tres Demented,
Dave Gahan,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
John Holt,
Sonic Youth,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Pretty Things,
The Gun Club,
Altered Images,
Wasted Youth,
Girls At Our Best!,
Stereo Dub,
Youth Brigade,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
T. Rex,
The Trojans,
Monks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Harry Pussy,
Bobby Byrd,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.