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 Malawi and from Milan.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Aloha Tigers to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Skatalites 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Drexciya,
Ohio Players,
Outsiders,
EPMD,
The Toasters,
Toni Rubio,
Mary Jane Girls,
Trumans Water,
Josef K,
The Gap Band,
Laurel Aitken,
Black Flag,
Oneida,
Magazine,
H. Thieme,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
David Bowie,
Newcleus,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Deakin,
Ituana,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Scott Walker,
These Immortal Souls,
Parry Music,
The Victims,
Bootsy Collins,
The Red Krayola,
Pole,
Pierre Henry,
Alice Coltrane,
Archie Shepp,
Dual Sessions,
Eric B and Rakim,
Goldenarms,
Pharoah Sanders,
Organ,
Dead Boys,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Soul II Soul,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Black Pus,
Schoolly D,
Wally Richardson,
Camberwell Now,
L. Decosne,
Stetsasonic,
Ken Boothe,
Terrestrial Tones,
Matthew Bourne,
the Germs,
Sandy B,
Von Mondo,
Eric Copeland,
Joyce Sims,
June of 44,
The Associates,
Fluxion,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.