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 Liberia and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Trojans to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Litter. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Deepchord,
Wire,
Delta 5,
Animal Collective,
Davy DMX,
David Bowie,
Minor Threat,
The Mighty Diamonds,
John Coltrane,
Godley & Creme,
Can,
The Names,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Divine Comedy,
Mo-Dettes,
Connie Case,
Con Funk Shun,
Bang On A Can,
Duran Duran,
Lou Reed,
Grandmaster Flash,
Black Pus,
Pussy Galore,
This Heat,
MDC,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sight & Sound,
Groovy Waters,
the Sonics,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sam Rivers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Stereo Dub,
The Shadows of Knight,
Juan Atkins,
Eurythmics,
The J.B.'s,
Morten Harket,
Ultravox,
The Dave Clark Five,
Skaos,
Sister Nancy,
Wolf Eyes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jeru the Damaja,
Procol Harum,
Nick Fraelich,
Electric Prunes,
Iggy Pop,
Josef K,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sällskapet,
Kool Moe Dee,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Radio Birdman,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Schoolly D,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.