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 Argentina and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 chamberlin 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 John Cale to the grime 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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Boz Scaggs,
R.M.O.,
Ornette Coleman,
Gang Gang Dance,
Youth Brigade,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Electric Prunes,
Outsiders,
The Victims,
New York Dolls,
Amazonics,
X-Ray Spex,
Eve St. Jones,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Goldenarms,
Pierre Henry,
Black Moon,
Theoretical Girls,
Minnie Riperton,
Joyce Sims,
Wings,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Glambeats Corp.,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Swans,
Derrick Morgan,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sparks,
Buzzcocks,
Bob Dylan,
The Dave Clark Five,
Con Funk Shun,
The Raincoats,
T. Rex,
Soulsonic Force,
Prince Buster,
Aswad,
Gil Scott Heron,
Qualms,
The Barracudas,
Maleditus Sound,
Avey Tare,
John Foxx,
Royal Trux,
Derrick May,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Joe Finger,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
La Düsseldorf,
Television Personalities,
Colin Newman,
Sam Rivers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Velvet Underground,
Girls At Our Best!,
Max Romeo,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.