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 Papua New Guinea and from Hong Kong.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Throbbing Gristle to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Porter Ricks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Neil Young,
Electric Prunes,
Jawbox,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Names,
Grey Daturas,
Deadbeat,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Harmonia,
Barbara Tucker,
New York Dolls,
Liliput,
R.M.O.,
The Neon Judgement,
The Monks,
The Misunderstood,
Eve St. Jones,
Peter & Gordon,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Alton Ellis,
Soul Sonic Force,
Mars,
The Toasters,
Mad Mike,
Joyce Sims,
Bobbi Humphrey,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Reuben Wilson,
Eric Dolphy,
H. Thieme,
The Doors,
Black Sheep,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ralphi Rosario,
Radio Birdman,
New Order,
Second Layer,
Johnny Clarke,
Parry Music,
Lucky Dragons,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Quantec,
Technova,
Chris & Cosey,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Smiths,
Procol Harum,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pussy Galore,
Royal Trux,
Accadde A,
The Dave Clark Five,
Donald Byrd,
Don Cherry,
Yazoo,
Pylon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Loose Ends,
The Raincoats,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.