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 Dominican Republic and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 rhodes 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 Bobby Byrd to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Foxx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a La Düsseldorf record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Guru Guru,
X-Ray Spex,
Magma,
Fear,
The Associates,
Bobby Womack,
The Star Department,
The Stooges,
The Fortunes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eric Copeland,
The Smoke,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Marvin Gaye,
Donny Hathaway,
Gastr Del Sol,
Eddi Front,
The Cure,
Donald Byrd,
E-Dancer,
Scientists,
Depeche Mode,
The Blues Magoos,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kerri Chandler,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
June of 44,
Brick,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Joe Smooth,
The Fugs,
Skriet,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Remains,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Leaves,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Aaron Thompson,
The Pretty Things,
Inner City,
The Tremeloes,
Bang On A Can,
Arcadia,
Carl Craig,
Motorama,
Janne Schatter,
Electric Prunes,
Stetsasonic,
Los Fastidios,
Angry Samoans,
Bill Wells,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sight & Sound,
Can,
Masters at Work,
This Heat,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.