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 Libya and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Holger Czukay 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 World's Most to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
F. McDonald,
Agent Orange,
Stetsasonic,
Scientists,
Easy Going,
The Gladiators,
The Leaves,
A Certain Ratio,
Young Marble Giants,
The Music Machine,
Ronan,
Minutemen,
Ituana,
The Residents,
Lucky Dragons,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Normal,
Echospace,
New York Dolls,
Los Fastidios,
June Days,
The Detroit Cobras,
Deepchord,
Gong,
Zero Boys,
Amazonics,
The Stooges,
Sugar Minott,
Matthew Bourne,
The Zeros,
Reagan Youth,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Hasil Adkins,
John Foxx,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Dead C,
Roger Hodgson,
Malaria!,
Cameo,
Chrome,
Bronski Beat,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Siglo XX,
Bobby Sherman,
Pylon,
Crispy Ambulance,
Charles Mingus,
Amon Düül,
JFA,
Skriet,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Don Cherry,
John Coltrane,
Sex Pistols,
The Last Poets,
PIL,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rufus Thomas,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rod Modell,
The Sound,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.