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 Guinea-Bissau and from Bremen.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bang On A Can 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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
The Cure,
F. McDonald,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Fire Engines,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Fela Kuti,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bad Manners,
Pantaleimon,
R.M.O.,
Todd Rundgren,
Rotary Connection,
B.T. Express,
Nik Kershaw,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Stereo Dub,
The Residents,
Yazoo,
Derrick Morgan,
Monolake,
Pantytec,
Aural Exciters,
Echospace,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rakim,
Janne Schatter,
Mission of Burma,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Index,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Barry Ungar,
The Smoke,
Can,
Porter Ricks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Q and Not U,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Reagan Youth,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Electric Prunes,
H. Thieme,
Intrusion,
The Move,
Technova,
Smog,
X-Ray Spex,
Ten City,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Scan 7,
Skaos,
Connie Case,
Ponytail,
The Five Americans,
the Fania All-Stars,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Terry Callier,
Neil Young,
Severed Heads,
Wolf Eyes,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.