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 Vietnam and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 marimba 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 Throbbing Gristle to the disco 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 Section 25. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Easy Going,
Nirvana,
These Immortal Souls,
Pierre Henry,
cv313,
Henry Cow,
Alphaville,
Tears for Fears,
The Birthday Party,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Basic Channel,
The Happenings,
Suburban Knight,
Babytalk,
Ultravox,
Ohio Players,
Juan Atkins,
The Blues Magoos,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Barclay James Harvest,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dark Day,
Severed Heads,
the Normal,
Slave,
Soft Machine,
Banda Bassotti,
Liliput,
The Angels of Light,
Bang On A Can,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rufus Thomas,
Pussy Galore,
The Alarm Clocks,
Flash Fearless,
Panda Bear,
The Count Five,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Cramps,
Amon Düül II,
Scott Walker,
Man Parrish,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Tres Demented,
Zero Boys,
Lightning Bolt,
One Last Wish,
World's Most,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kenny Larkin,
Maleditus Sound,
The Star Department,
Lalann,
Yusef Lateef,
The Gories,
Harpers Bizarre,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Motions,
The Smoke,
Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers.
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.