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 Congo and from New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Faraquet to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jacob Miller,
The Fugs,
Idris Muhammad,
Blossom Toes,
Stereo Dub,
The Smoke,
Kayak,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ossler,
Camberwell Now,
Royal Trux,
Soft Machine,
Joe Smooth,
Skarface,
Von Mondo,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Sonics,
Cybotron,
The Sonics,
The Black Dice,
the Germs,
Magazine,
The Grass Roots,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Offenders,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Knickerbockers,
Pet Shop Boys,
D'Angelo,
Rapeman,
Radiopuhelimet,
Wings,
The Fortunes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Average White Band,
The Red Krayola,
Alison Limerick,
The Victims,
Ralphi Rosario,
Amazonics,
The Divine Comedy,
Lindisfarne,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Amon Düül II,
Q and Not U,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Josef K,
Hoover,
Model 500,
A Flock of Seagulls,
David Bowie,
John Coltrane,
L. Decosne,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Tomorrow,
Altered Images,
The Kinks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Grauzone,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.