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 Monaco and from Accra.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Fear to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ludus 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?
Dark Day,
Anakelly,
Eddi Front,
Janne Schatter,
T. Rex,
JFA,
One Last Wish,
48th St. Collective,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Alphaville,
Scott Walker,
Panda Bear,
Con Funk Shun,
The Smoke,
Ornette Coleman,
Blossom Toes,
Pet Shop Boys,
Aural Exciters,
Grauzone,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Move,
cv313,
Franke,
Nick Fraelich,
Ohio Players,
The Motions,
Young Marble Giants,
Nico,
Dead Boys,
Gabor Szabo,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ludus,
the Slits,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Rotary Connection,
Anthony Braxton,
The Victims,
Public Enemy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Real Kids,
The Zeros,
Gang Green,
Khruangbin,
the Swans,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Offenders,
Junior Murvin,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Warren Ellis,
DNA,
The Blackbyrds,
Traffic Nightmare,
Half Japanese,
Deakin,
Oneida,
Circle Jerks,
Faust,
Susan Cadogan,
Yaz,
Guru Guru,
Eric B and Rakim,
Josef K,
New York Dolls,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.