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 Swaziland and from Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 808 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 Barry Ungar to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Slave,
Joe Smooth,
Sonic Youth,
Pylon,
Eli Mardock,
Aural Exciters,
A Certain Ratio,
The Young Rascals,
Moby Grape,
Roger Hodgson,
Accadde A,
The Knickerbockers,
Television Personalities,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Brass Construction,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
CMW,
U.S. Maple,
kango's stein massive,
The Happenings,
Marcia Griffiths,
Crash Course in Science,
Anthony Braxton,
UT,
Oblivians,
Alton Ellis,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Jacob Miller,
Aloha Tigers,
Boz Scaggs,
Japan,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Count Five,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Model 500,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Aaron Thompson,
Kerrie Biddell,
D'Angelo,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Robert Hood,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Donny Hathaway,
Bob Dylan,
The Fortunes,
Carl Craig,
Brand Nubian,
AZ,
Chris Corsano,
Chris & Cosey,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fela Kuti,
Magazine,
Gong,
Kurtis Blow,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Detroit Cobras,
Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül.
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.