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 Somalia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Lou Reed 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 Nik Kershaw to the rap 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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Carl Craig,
Das Ding,
Reagan Youth,
Kool Moe Dee,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Albert Ayler,
Quadrant,
Funky Four + One,
Silicon Teens,
The Index,
China Crisis,
Thee Headcoats,
Gang Gang Dance,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Organ,
Peter & Gordon,
The Red Krayola,
Ultra Naté,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Swans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Yusef Lateef,
Roxette,
Suicide,
The Flesh Eaters,
Terry Callier,
The Fugs,
Kayak,
DNA,
Massinfluence,
Eden Ahbez,
Amazonics,
Adolescents,
The Modern Lovers,
The Tremeloes,
Gichy Dan,
Siglo XX,
Moby Grape,
Sun Ra,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
L. Decosne,
Index,
Cluster,
Piero Umiliani,
Television Personalities,
Lightning Bolt,
Chrome,
The Offenders,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lebanon Hanover,
Harry Pussy,
Danielle Patucci,
Crooked Eye,
Inner City,
Q65,
8 Eyed Spy,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Golliwogs,
Crispian St. Peters,
Barry Ungar,
Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685, Joensuu 1685.
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.