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 Madagascar and from Columbus.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sight & Sound to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
Jerry's Kids,
LL Cool J,
Pagans,
Gil Scott Heron,
Janne Schatter,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pere Ubu,
Tim Buckley,
Piero Umiliani,
David Axelrod,
Dark Day,
Man Eating Sloth,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Cowsills,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Names,
Mantronix,
Camouflage,
Al Stewart,
X-Ray Spex,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Yusef Lateef,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Red Krayola,
the Normal,
Guru Guru,
The Last Poets,
Cecil Taylor,
The Divine Comedy,
Marvin Gaye,
Banda Bassotti,
Young Marble Giants,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The New Christs,
The United States of America,
The Zeros,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Babytalk,
The Velvet Underground,
Eve St. Jones,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Electric Prunes,
The Searchers,
Brick,
Bauhaus,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Magazine,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Leaves,
The Angels of Light,
Motorama,
James White and The Blacks,
Roy Ayers,
Oblivians,
Slave,
New Age Steppers,
Marshall Jefferson,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.