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 Tajikistan and from Woodstock.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the oboe 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 Bang On A Can to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
Lungfish,
Panda Bear,
Tears for Fears,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Susan Cadogan,
Pagans,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Excepter,
Yellowson,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ossler,
Schoolly D,
June Days,
Essential Logic,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Joy Division,
Black Pus,
Porter Ricks,
Circle Jerks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Cluster,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Fuzztones,
John Coltrane,
The Beau Brummels,
Moebius,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
DNA,
Radiopuhelimet,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lalo Schifrin,
Erykah Badu,
Franke,
Suburban Knight,
Aswad,
Nik Kershaw,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gabor Szabo,
FM Einheit,
Mr. Review,
Harpers Bizarre,
Brass Construction,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Smoke,
Dennis Brown,
Quantec,
Cecil Taylor,
Suicide,
ABC,
Ultimate Spinach,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bob Dylan,
10cc,
Joey Negro,
Make Up,
Von Mondo,
Young Marble Giants,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Black Dice,
Bauhaus,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.