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 Bhutan and from Paris.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Buzzcocks to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All The Happenings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heavy D & The Boyz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Mr. Review,
Gregory Isaacs,
Tommy Roe,
The Move,
Jacques Brel,
Lalo Schifrin,
Banda Bassotti,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lindisfarne,
Nico,
The Gun Club,
X-101,
PIL,
Infiniti,
kango's stein massive,
Robert Hood,
Quantec,
Juan Atkins,
Dawn Penn,
Thee Headcoats,
Robert Görl,
Iggy Pop,
Minutemen,
The Busters,
Blancmange,
Smog,
Black Flag,
Absolute Body Control,
World's Most,
Bobby Womack,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pussy Galore,
The Electric Prunes,
Cal Tjader,
Johnny Osbourne,
Oneida,
Pole,
The Divine Comedy,
Chris & Cosey,
Pharoah Sanders,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Barbara Tucker,
Roxy Music,
Visage,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Dirtbombs,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Wake,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Easy Going,
Sister Nancy,
Bill Near,
Agent Orange,
Maurizio,
Heaven 17,
Joe Smooth,
Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis.
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.