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 Bolivia and from Lagos.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Lee Hazlewood to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grauzone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gastr Del Sol,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Young Rascals,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Shadows of Knight,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
DJ Sneak,
Traffic Nightmare,
Marcia Griffiths,
Youth Brigade,
One Last Wish,
Ituana,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Mars,
Stereo Dub,
Byron Stingily,
Skarface,
Matthew Bourne,
Black Pus,
Warsaw,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Janne Schatter,
Barry Ungar,
Pulsallama,
T. Rex,
Delta 5,
Ultra Naté,
Grandmaster Flash,
Thee Headcoats,
Lungfish,
The Victims,
Malaria!,
Kurtis Blow,
Scratch Acid,
Index,
Animal Collective,
The Vogues,
Au Pairs,
The Slackers,
Reuben Wilson,
MDC,
New Age Steppers,
Iggy Pop,
Arcadia,
Hashim,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Cowsills,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bang On A Can,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rites of Spring,
Drexciya,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pussy Galore,
Gang Gang Dance,
Colin Newman,
Mission of Burma,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Motions,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.