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 Colombia and from Calgary.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Stockholm.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the organ 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 Jerry's Kids to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Hashim. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
kango's stein massive,
The Count Five,
The Skatalites,
Sex Pistols,
Cybotron,
Jeff Mills,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Electric Prunes,
Bush Tetras,
A Certain Ratio,
CMW,
Pole,
Howard Jones,
The Misunderstood,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Young Marble Giants,
Sound Behaviour,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lucky Dragons,
Country Teasers,
Sonic Youth,
Steve Hackett,
H. Thieme,
Judy Mowatt,
Albert Ayler,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Magma,
Barry Ungar,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Angels of Light,
Scan 7,
Black Bananas,
Hasil Adkins,
Piero Umiliani,
The Black Dice,
These Immortal Souls,
Colin Newman,
the Germs,
Depeche Mode,
Mark Hollis,
Wolf Eyes,
Dave Gahan,
Sam Rivers,
Can,
Eric B and Rakim,
Oblivians,
The Wake,
Franke,
Panda Bear,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Aswad,
Eric Copeland,
Bobby Byrd,
Morten Harket,
Rotary Connection,
Robert Görl,
Kas Product,
Heaven 17,
The Smiths,
Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach.
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.