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 Mongolia and from Bologna.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Smoke to the rap 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 Agitation Free. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Goldenarms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
The Litter,
Public Enemy,
Amon Düül II,
Suburban Knight,
Bob Dylan,
Ornette Coleman,
Crispy Ambulance,
Prince Buster,
Television Personalities,
The Walker Brothers,
Jerry's Kids,
Ultimate Spinach,
Oblivians,
Lindisfarne,
Outsiders,
UT,
Vainqueur,
H. Thieme,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cymande,
Magma,
K-Klass,
Second Layer,
Donny Hathaway,
The Golliwogs,
Boogie Down Productions,
Deadbeat,
Charles Mingus,
Interpol,
The Sonics,
Deepchord,
The Cowsills,
Mark Hollis,
Roxette,
Sister Nancy,
Y Pants,
Clear Light,
Mission of Burma,
Basic Channel,
Dorothy Ashby,
Harry Pussy,
Simply Red,
Sexual Harrassment,
Minor Threat,
Anthony Braxton,
The Martian,
Black Pus,
Agitation Free,
Grandmaster Flash,
10cc,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sam Rivers,
Derrick Morgan,
Lou Reed,
Bobby Sherman,
kango's stein massive,
Marcia Griffiths,
Erykah Badu,
Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes.
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.