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 Ireland and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manchester.
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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 H. Thieme to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Patti Smith,
The Star Department,
Deakin,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Smoke,
Jacob Miller,
The New Christs,
Das Ding,
Skriet,
Soul II Soul,
Bill Near,
Mo-Dettes,
Joe Finger,
Skaos,
The Knickerbockers,
Flipper,
Peter & Gordon,
Bauhaus,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Suburban Knight,
Lucky Dragons,
Sonny Sharrock,
Soul Sonic Force,
Newcleus,
Goldenarms,
Magazine,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lalo Schifrin,
Wally Richardson,
Wasted Youth,
Brothers Johnson,
Ohio Players,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Stiv Bators,
48th St. Collective,
The Fortunes,
U.S. Maple,
Marmalade,
Chris & Cosey,
E-Dancer,
The Modern Lovers,
Sun City Girls,
The Sonics,
The Young Rascals,
Junior Murvin,
Rekid,
Joe Smooth,
Roger Hodgson,
Trumans Water,
Bobby Womack,
The Martian,
Derrick May,
Dark Day,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Cheater Slicks,
Echospace,
Minnie Riperton,
Parry Music,
Roxy Music,
Ludus,
New Order,
Al Stewart,
Neil Young,
Piero Umiliani,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.