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 Liechtenstein and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 oboe 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 Lalann to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
The Gladiators,
The Stooges,
Angry Samoans,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Agitation Free,
The Sound,
Nas,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
X-101,
Gabor Szabo,
Todd Rundgren,
The Shadows of Knight,
Porter Ricks,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Pretty Things,
Sparks,
The Fugs,
Neil Young,
Silicon Teens,
Carl Craig,
Rufus Thomas,
Rites of Spring,
Adolescents,
James White and The Blacks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Associates,
Infiniti,
MC5,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bush Tetras,
The Litter,
Saccharine Trust,
Sonic Youth,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
A Certain Ratio,
Ultra Naté,
Malaria!,
Japan,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Moby Grape,
June Days,
Suburban Knight,
The Martian,
Hardrive,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Wings,
Joensuu 1685,
Minor Threat,
X-Ray Spex,
Leonard Cohen,
Half Japanese,
China Crisis,
The Remains,
June of 44,
Al Stewart,
The Smiths,
Bad Manners,
Ornette Coleman,
Chris & Cosey,
Sugar Minott,
Nation of Ulysses,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.