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 Germany and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
The Cosmic Jokers,
a-ha,
Depeche Mode,
Soul II Soul,
Sugar Minott,
Kenny Larkin,
Cheater Slicks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Robert Wyatt,
Leonard Cohen,
Jesper Dahlback,
Loose Ends,
Crime,
Bill Wells,
The Moody Blues,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Barrington Levy,
Idris Muhammad,
Camberwell Now,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Magma,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pantytec,
Bang On A Can,
Public Enemy,
Derrick May,
The Birthday Party,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bauhaus,
Barclay James Harvest,
Echospace,
The American Breed,
Bush Tetras,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Moebius,
the Normal,
A Certain Ratio,
Pharoah Sanders,
Liliput,
Das Ding,
Avey Tare,
Yellowson,
Crash Course in Science,
Junior Murvin,
Animal Collective,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Matthew Halsall,
James White and The Blacks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ronan,
Gong,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Slackers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Chris & Cosey,
Scratch Acid,
Albert Ayler,
The Cure,
The Blues Magoos,
The Gap Band,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.