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 Latvia and from Cairo.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Doors. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
The Monochrome Set,
Rites of Spring,
Ten City,
Stockholm Monsters,
Black Sheep,
the Normal,
June of 44,
Letta Mbulu,
Duran Duran,
Prince Buster,
The Detroit Cobras,
D'Angelo,
Hashim,
EPMD,
The Fuzztones,
The Remains,
Throbbing Gristle,
Deepchord,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Move,
Y Pants,
Sällskapet,
Nico,
Lou Christie,
Arthur Verocai,
The Red Krayola,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Aaron Thompson,
Mr. Review,
Shoche,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eve St. Jones,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lindisfarne,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Mary Jane Girls,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
a-ha,
Television,
Soulsonic Force,
Bush Tetras,
Mandrill,
Jacques Brel,
Robert Hood,
Kerrie Biddell,
Archie Shepp,
Unwound,
Joe Smooth,
Bizarre Inc.,
H. Thieme,
The Grass Roots,
Simply Red,
Joy Division,
Jesper Dahlback,
La Düsseldorf,
Nation of Ulysses,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Five Americans,
New York Dolls,
Todd Terry,
Whodini,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.