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 Rwanda and from Mexico City.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 sitar 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 The Zeros to the jazz 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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warren Ellis,
Black Sheep,
Alton Ellis,
The Mummies,
John Foxx,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The J.B.'s,
Hardrive,
Fad Gadget,
Nick Fraelich,
The New Christs,
Quantec,
The Names,
Jeff Mills,
Wire,
Aural Exciters,
Royal Trux,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
La Düsseldorf,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Negative Approach,
Freddie Wadling,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fugazi,
Dead Boys,
Adolescents,
The Blues Magoos,
Lightning Bolt,
Kurtis Blow,
UT,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Sonics,
The Music Machine,
The Moleskins,
Whodini,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Smog,
Mary Jane Girls,
Todd Rundgren,
The United States of America,
The Evens,
Joe Finger,
Cal Tjader,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Star Department,
Johnny Osbourne,
Monks,
Talk Talk,
The Skatalites,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Knickerbockers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Los Fastidios,
Matthew Bourne,
Jimmy McGriff,
Yellowson,
Barry Ungar,
The Durutti Column,
The Pretty Things,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.