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 Mozambique and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Accra.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis 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 rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
Q and Not U,
Heaven 17,
Infiniti,
The Sound,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Moody Blues,
Fat Boys,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Blossom Toes,
Rapeman,
Pantytec,
Loose Ends,
The Zeros,
Franke,
Colin Newman,
Kaleidoscope,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Agent Orange,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Fuzztones,
MDC,
Magazine,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kas Product,
The Knickerbockers,
Cybotron,
The Cramps,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Symarip,
Make Up,
F. McDonald,
The Mighty Diamonds,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Tears for Fears,
Babytalk,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Faraquet,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Funky Four + One,
Danielle Patucci,
The Fugs,
Eric B and Rakim,
Black Sheep,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mandrill,
Gabor Szabo,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Human League,
Scott Walker,
Accadde A,
The Birthday Party,
Tropical Tobacco,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Harry Pussy,
The Cure,
Television Personalities,
The Associates,
Susan Cadogan,
Zapp,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish.
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.