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 Tonga and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 spring reverb 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 Soulsonic Force to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Guru Guru,
LL Cool J,
Trumans Water,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Byron Stingily,
Jacques Brel,
The Smiths,
Bluetip,
The Blackbyrds,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Parry Music,
Eric Copeland,
Camberwell Now,
The Gladiators,
Bronski Beat,
Bad Manners,
Darondo,
Blancmange,
the Bar-Kays,
Scrapy,
Barry Ungar,
The Doobie Brothers,
Young Marble Giants,
Underground Resistance,
The Seeds,
Marshall Jefferson,
Essential Logic,
Infiniti,
The Saints,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Masters at Work,
The New Christs,
Von Mondo,
Chris Corsano,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
James White and The Blacks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Au Pairs,
Delta 5,
Minutemen,
Roger Hodgson,
Unwound,
David McCallum,
Zapp,
Skarface,
The Shadows of Knight,
Nik Kershaw,
Silicon Teens,
JFA,
Bob Dylan,
The Fugs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nils Olav,
Patti Smith,
Royal Trux,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Black Sheep,
Sex Pistols,
Matthew Halsall,
Popol Vuh,
Lee Hazlewood,
Deepchord,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.