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 Zimbabwe and from Salvador.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Buzzcocks to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
Monolake,
Mr. Review,
Joe Smooth,
Juan Atkins,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Soul Sonic Force,
Funkadelic,
MC5,
Minutemen,
New York Dolls,
Cheater Slicks,
Skarface,
Scion,
the Soft Cell,
The Monks,
Graham Central Station,
KRS-One,
Theoretical Girls,
X-101,
Sällskapet,
Soulsonic Force,
The Fortunes,
Flipper,
Byron Stingily,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Electric Prunes,
Wolf Eyes,
Ultra Naté,
Mad Mike,
Surgeon,
Infiniti,
Delta 5,
Roxette,
Electric Prunes,
Deepchord,
Grey Daturas,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
EPMD,
Cluster,
The Misunderstood,
Whodini,
Nils Olav,
Matthew Bourne,
Idris Muhammad,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Essential Logic,
Moss Icon,
Kerri Chandler,
Bauhaus,
Stiv Bators,
Alton Ellis,
Donald Byrd,
Isaac Hayes,
Rapeman,
The Busters,
The Move,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The New Christs,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.