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 Antigua and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ten City to the crunk 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 Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
The Busters,
Skarface,
Bootsy Collins,
The Cure,
Pussy Galore,
Organ,
Eli Mardock,
Arab on Radar,
The Fugs,
Sällskapet,
Scrapy,
Bauhaus,
Terry Callier,
Banda Bassotti,
Marvin Gaye,
Guru Guru,
The Modern Lovers,
AZ,
Royal Trux,
Metal Thangz,
The Smiths,
Soft Cell,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Motorama,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Quantec,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Moleskins,
Robert Görl,
Peter and Kerry,
Funkadelic,
Alison Limerick,
Kerri Chandler,
Eric B and Rakim,
ABBA,
Vladislav Delay,
Von Mondo,
Mr. Review,
These Immortal Souls,
Al Stewart,
Underground Resistance,
Adolescents,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Animal Collective,
Kevin Saunderson,
R.M.O.,
Basic Channel,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Blake Baxter,
Lyres,
Marmalade,
Deakin,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Surgeon,
JFA,
Danielle Patucci,
Susan Cadogan,
Alton Ellis,
Gastr Del Sol,
Jandek,
Albert Ayler,
The Evens,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.