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 Norway and from Glasgow.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 harpsichord 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 The Dead C to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 FM Einheit. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ohio Players,
Soft Cell,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Todd Rundgren,
Crispy Ambulance,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Barry Ungar,
The Slackers,
The Young Rascals,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Underground Resistance,
Matthew Bourne,
Lightning Bolt,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bauhaus,
the Swans,
Porter Ricks,
Symarip,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Qualms,
Massinfluence,
Youth Brigade,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Neon Judgement,
The Beau Brummels,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Basic Channel,
David Bowie,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Banda Bassotti,
Arthur Verocai,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Girls At Our Best!,
Livin' Joy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sound Behaviour,
Sixth Finger,
Harmonia,
Television Personalities,
Oblivians,
Robert Görl,
Maurizio,
Mantronix,
Loose Ends,
Janne Schatter,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Walker Brothers,
Sugar Minott,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Five Americans,
Pylon,
Faust,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cheater Slicks,
Duran Duran,
Sun City Girls,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
KRS-One,
Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now.
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.