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 Nicaragua and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 sitar 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 The Martian to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Bad Manners tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
Pierre Henry,
Parry Music,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sixth Finger,
The Stooges,
Agitation Free,
June Days,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Fania All-Stars,
Thee Headcoats,
Skaos,
Zero Boys,
Japan,
David McCallum,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Joe Finger,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sex Pistols,
Dave Gahan,
The Grass Roots,
Flamin' Groovies,
OOIOO,
Brothers Johnson,
Yusef Lateef,
48th St. Collective,
The Monks,
The Buckinghams,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Residents,
Ohio Players,
H. Thieme,
Bobby Sherman,
Danielle Patucci,
The Angels of Light,
Althea and Donna,
Khruangbin,
Dennis Brown,
Glambeats Corp.,
Wings,
The Sonics,
Vainqueur,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Blancmange,
Lungfish,
Scientists,
The Associates,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rites of Spring,
Mad Mike,
Stereo Dub,
Piero Umiliani,
Janne Schatter,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Deadbeat,
Interpol,
Basic Channel,
The Sound,
Maurizio,
Roger Hodgson,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.