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 Nepal and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Piero Umiliani to the crunk 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ituana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Tubeway Army,
Second Layer,
Junior Murvin,
Das Ding,
Minutemen,
Eurythmics,
Robert Hood,
Flash Fearless,
Gong,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Dirtbombs,
Urselle,
One Last Wish,
Laurel Aitken,
Technova,
Traffic Nightmare,
Joe Finger,
Bush Tetras,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cymande,
The Neon Judgement,
New York Dolls,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sonic Youth,
The Alarm Clocks,
Dead Boys,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Index,
Sun Ra,
Yellowson,
K-Klass,
Glenn Branca,
Bobby Byrd,
Siglo XX,
The Slackers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cal Tjader,
Kaleidoscope,
Metal Thangz,
The Five Americans,
Peter & Gordon,
Can,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
a-ha,
Angry Samoans,
E-Dancer,
The Fuzztones,
The Standells,
the Association,
Skarface,
Newcleus,
The Monks,
DJ Style,
Bootsy Collins,
Aaron Thompson,
Porter Ricks,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.