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 Mali and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 theremin 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 Lonnie Liston Smith 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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Duran Duran record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Slick Rick,
Sun City Girls,
Amazonics,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Avey Tare,
Sam Rivers,
Bauhaus,
Wasted Youth,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Radio Birdman,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Schoolly D,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cal Tjader,
Fela Kuti,
Jacob Miller,
Archie Shepp,
the Slits,
Rakim,
The Vogues,
Laurel Aitken,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Prince Buster,
Thee Headcoats,
10cc,
KRS-One,
The Litter,
Kerri Chandler,
X-101,
Albert Ayler,
The Trojans,
Alison Limerick,
Massinfluence,
China Crisis,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Human League,
The Motions,
Sex Pistols,
Sound Behaviour,
Ludus,
Oblivians,
Juan Atkins,
Bang On A Can,
the Soft Cell,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Harpers Bizarre,
Freddie Wadling,
Supertramp,
Magma,
Alice Coltrane,
Quando Quango,
Alphaville,
Susan Cadogan,
The Cramps,
MC5,
Cluster,
The American Breed,
Liliput,
The Stooges,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.