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 Bulgaria and from New York.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Crash Course in Science to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Nas. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
Funkadelic,
Chrome,
the Fania All-Stars,
Groovy Waters,
Fatback Band,
The Fuzztones,
Colin Newman,
Joensuu 1685,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Walker Brothers,
Absolute Body Control,
Average White Band,
Sun City Girls,
Zero Boys,
Animal Collective,
Joey Negro,
Youth Brigade,
Pagans,
Bill Wells,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ronnie Foster,
R.M.O.,
The Buckinghams,
Anakelly,
Mad Mike,
The Grass Roots,
The Neon Judgement,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Roy Ayers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eric Copeland,
MC5,
Henry Cow,
Lower 48,
Sällskapet,
Wolf Eyes,
Mark Hollis,
The Raincoats,
Alice Coltrane,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Tears for Fears,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Terry Callier,
Slave,
Livin' Joy,
The Blues Magoos,
Minnie Riperton,
F. McDonald,
The Dave Clark Five,
Model 500,
Joe Finger,
Moby Grape,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jerry's Kids,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
John Cale,
Connie Case,
Unwound,
Eurythmics,
Marc Almond,
Vladislav Delay,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.