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 China and from London.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the dance 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 Essential Logic. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jacob Miller,
Blake Baxter,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sister Nancy,
Television,
Television Personalities,
Brothers Johnson,
Derrick Morgan,
Tears for Fears,
The Black Dice,
Harmonia,
Piero Umiliani,
Byron Stingily,
Main Source,
Echospace,
The Moleskins,
Pantytec,
Crispian St. Peters,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Fad Gadget,
Siglo XX,
Livin' Joy,
Henry Cow,
The Star Department,
Nirvana,
Moss Icon,
The Fugs,
Lebanon Hanover,
Mary Jane Girls,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sparks,
Freddie Wadling,
Ronnie Foster,
Desert Stars,
Delon & Dalcan,
Archie Shepp,
Flipper,
Fluxion,
The Litter,
JFA,
Albert Ayler,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Unwound,
The Trojans,
World's Most,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kool Moe Dee,
Dead Boys,
Sex Pistols,
Saccharine Trust,
Dave Gahan,
T.S.O.L.,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Remains,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Cure,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
D'Angelo,
Jeru the Damaja,
Black Moon,
Bobby Sherman,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.