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 Edmonton.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Michael McDonald 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 Residents to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 E-Dancer. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gichy Dan,
Magazine,
Tommy Roe,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Slits,
Tres Demented,
David McCallum,
Gil Scott Heron,
Cal Tjader,
Matthew Halsall,
Rotary Connection,
The Gun Club,
The Modern Lovers,
Ossler,
Metal Thangz,
T.S.O.L.,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Popol Vuh,
Sparks,
The Evens,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Swans,
Tears for Fears,
Sonic Youth,
Roxy Music,
John Holt,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Skatalites,
Ludus,
Pole,
New Order,
Rosa Yemen,
Tomorrow,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Mummies,
Janne Schatter,
Wings,
Mo-Dettes,
Underground Resistance,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bluetip,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Minny Pops,
Magma,
Tom Boy,
Donny Hathaway,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Carl Craig,
The Monks,
Don Cherry,
Lyres,
the Germs,
Zapp,
Angry Samoans,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.