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 Sudan and from New York.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bremen.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the güiro 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 Country Teasers to the funk 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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
The Fall,
The Birthday Party,
Cheater Slicks,
Audionom,
Fluxion,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Dead C,
Urselle,
The Last Poets,
Kurtis Blow,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Main Source,
Slave,
Goldenarms,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Fela Kuti,
the Fania All-Stars,
B.T. Express,
Amazonics,
Japan,
Basic Channel,
The Count Five,
Bang On A Can,
Cameo,
Silicon Teens,
Crime,
Second Layer,
Outsiders,
The United States of America,
Organ,
Quando Quango,
Rapeman,
The Seeds,
Mark Hollis,
Sam Rivers,
Trumans Water,
Black Pus,
Newcleus,
Judy Mowatt,
Gichy Dan,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ultimate Spinach,
David Bowie,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Masters at Work,
Sex Pistols,
The Star Department,
Freddie Wadling,
Scrapy,
D'Angelo,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ronnie Foster,
Spoonie Gee,
Nirvana,
Eurythmics,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
John Cale,
H. Thieme,
Nils Olav,
R.M.O.,
Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry.
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.