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 Burundi and from Lille.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 marimba 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 The Blues Magoos to the grunge 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Chris & Cosey,
Peter & Gordon,
Scrapy,
Al Stewart,
The Selecter,
Tom Boy,
Hoover,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lalann,
The Last Poets,
Popol Vuh,
Eurythmics,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pantytec,
Chrome,
Underground Resistance,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Chris Corsano,
Bootsy Collins,
Lalo Schifrin,
Archie Shepp,
The Leaves,
Basic Channel,
The Real Kids,
The Modern Lovers,
Surgeon,
The Vogues,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Roxette,
CMW,
Brand Nubian,
Au Pairs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Los Fastidios,
Youth Brigade,
T. Rex,
Iggy Pop,
Drexciya,
The Gun Club,
Marshall Jefferson,
Parry Music,
Roger Hodgson,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ice-T,
Robert Görl,
B.T. Express,
Throbbing Gristle,
Half Japanese,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.