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 Algeria 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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sarah Menescal. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
Dave Gahan,
Dead Boys,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mo-Dettes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Zeros,
Bauhaus,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Make Up,
June Days,
The Cramps,
Slave,
Interpol,
Andrew Hill,
Blancmange,
E-Dancer,
The Electric Prunes,
Saccharine Trust,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
D'Angelo,
X-101,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Five Americans,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Crash Course in Science,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Happenings,
F. McDonald,
Index,
Minutemen,
Animal Collective,
Aaron Thompson,
Inner City,
Godley & Creme,
Michelle Simonal,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Blues Magoos,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gang Starr,
Wire,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Shadows of Knight,
Howard Jones,
Soft Cell,
Iggy Pop,
Anakelly,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Delta 5,
Toni Rubio,
Cluster,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Parry Music,
Pole,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Monochrome Set,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Mummies,
Freddie Wadling,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Nick Fraelich,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.