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 Lebanon and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and London.
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 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 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 Bush Tetras to the funk 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 The Techniques. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sugar Minott record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Walker Brothers,
Camberwell Now,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Mojo Men,
The Black Dice,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Stereo Dub,
Robert Görl,
Dead Boys,
KRS-One,
The Red Krayola,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
F. McDonald,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Sonics,
Freddie Wadling,
Au Pairs,
Eve St. Jones,
Faust,
Radio Birdman,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scrapy,
Roy Ayers,
In Retrospect,
Shuggie Otis,
The Fortunes,
Das Ding,
The Busters,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Nick Fraelich,
Gabor Szabo,
Jimmy McGriff,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Aloha Tigers,
The Beau Brummels,
Roxette,
Japan,
Saccharine Trust,
Sonny Sharrock,
Joey Negro,
Sixth Finger,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sex Pistols,
Delon & Dalcan,
Unrelated Segments,
Second Layer,
Drive Like Jehu,
Piero Umiliani,
Dave Gahan,
Barrington Levy,
Brass Construction,
Babytalk,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jacques Brel,
Drexciya,
The Gladiators,
Mars,
Can,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.