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 Egypt and from Copenhagen.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fela Kuti to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Basic Channel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Traffic Nightmare,
Barbara Tucker,
The Kinks,
Johnny Clarke,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bill Wells,
Scott Walker,
Peter and Kerry,
Charles Mingus,
The Raincoats,
PIL,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bad Manners,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The United States of America,
Babytalk,
Moebius,
Joy Division,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pierre Henry,
Byron Stingily,
Joe Finger,
Prince Buster,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Monks,
Flash Fearless,
Bobby Sherman,
Bluetip,
Brass Construction,
The Moleskins,
Mission of Burma,
Hasil Adkins,
Deakin,
Simply Red,
Darondo,
Magazine,
LL Cool J,
Tomorrow,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Buzzcocks,
Leonard Cohen,
Barclay James Harvest,
Black Bananas,
The Fall,
The Searchers,
The Dirtbombs,
Ossler,
Piero Umiliani,
Kool Moe Dee,
Drexciya,
Second Layer,
Connie Case,
Junior Murvin,
Sonny Sharrock,
Amon Düül,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
L. Decosne,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Mojo Men,
Carl Craig,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.