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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Taipei.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Das Ding to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
The Slits,
Eve St. Jones,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wings,
Warsaw,
Tears for Fears,
Boz Scaggs,
Neil Young,
Kenny Larkin,
Gabor Szabo,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fugazi,
New Order,
the Fania All-Stars,
Joyce Sims,
Intrusion,
Ronan,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ten City,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Procol Harum,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Niagra,
AZ,
Delta 5,
Amazonics,
A Certain Ratio,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
OOIOO,
Fatback Band,
Siglo XX,
Amon Düül,
The Monochrome Set,
Byron Stingily,
Subhumans,
Spoonie Gee,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Gories,
Make Up,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Toasters,
Crispy Ambulance,
Crooked Eye,
Man Eating Sloth,
Minnie Riperton,
Roxette,
The Names,
The Detroit Cobras,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Section 25,
Black Flag,
The Mojo Men,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bauhaus,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Prince Buster,
Circle Jerks,
Simply Red,
The Electric Prunes,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.