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 Andorra and from Portland.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Holger Czukay 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 Bush Tetras to the jazz 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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABBA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cameo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
Blake Baxter,
Ituana,
Ronnie Foster,
The Five Americans,
Jacques Brel,
Skaos,
Reuben Wilson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Glambeats Corp.,
Mars,
Max Romeo,
Joe Smooth,
Surgeon,
The Remains,
Harpers Bizarre,
Swans,
Joey Negro,
Royal Trux,
Can,
X-102,
Barclay James Harvest,
Zapp,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lungfish,
The Angels of Light,
Nils Olav,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Neon Judgement,
The Divine Comedy,
Television,
The Names,
DNA,
Rekid,
Gang Starr,
Pierre Henry,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Archie Shepp,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
David McCallum,
Colin Newman,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cecil Taylor,
The Invisible,
Suburban Knight,
Country Teasers,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Amon Düül,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Nas,
David Axelrod,
The Cosmic Jokers,
John Lydon,
Soft Cell,
Stiv Bators,
Fad Gadget,
Eric Dolphy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
8 Eyed Spy,
Brand Nubian,
K-Klass,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.