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 Botswana and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Woodstock.
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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Television Personalities to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Absolute Body Control,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ultravox,
The Standells,
Bootsy Collins,
Royal Trux,
Easy Going,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Moody Blues,
These Immortal Souls,
Byron Stingily,
Gichy Dan,
Wire,
Rites of Spring,
The Monks,
Von Mondo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
AZ,
The Knickerbockers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Leaves,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bauhaus,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mantronix,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Henry Cow,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Fortunes,
Erasure,
Gang of Four,
Eden Ahbez,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
JFA,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lalann,
Radiohead,
Warsaw,
Infiniti,
the Germs,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sight & Sound,
Organ,
Spoonie Gee,
Lakeside,
Marmalade,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Reagan Youth,
Ponytail,
Man Parrish,
Roxy Music,
Bill Wells,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ohio Players,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack, Bobby Womack.
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.