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 Qatar and from Beijing.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 oboe 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 Michelle Simonal to the disco 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 R.M.O.. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Patti Smith,
Black Moon,
T. Rex,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lalo Schifrin,
Vainqueur,
Delta 5,
John Coltrane,
K-Klass,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Whodini,
Icehouse,
Nick Fraelich,
Jimmy McGriff,
Altered Images,
Dual Sessions,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Negative Approach,
DNA,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Andrew Hill,
The Leaves,
Matthew Bourne,
X-102,
Cal Tjader,
Archie Shepp,
Crooked Eye,
Wings,
The Electric Prunes,
Agent Orange,
Chris Corsano,
Can,
Wire,
Marvin Gaye,
Hasil Adkins,
Gang Green,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Spoonie Gee,
Moebius,
Judy Mowatt,
Stereo Dub,
ABBA,
Mary Jane Girls,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Index,
Charles Mingus,
Metal Thangz,
The Dead C,
Motorama,
Suicide,
Stiv Bators,
Angry Samoans,
Nation of Ulysses,
Scientists,
B.T. Express,
The Fugs,
The Cramps,
Yazoo,
Maleditus Sound,
The Five Americans,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.