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 Kenya and from Paris.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 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 Dennis Brown to the funk 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 The Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All DJ Style tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds 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 a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Cal Tjader,
Pierre Henry,
Hoover,
The Misunderstood,
John Holt,
John Lydon,
Stereo Dub,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Heaven 17,
Wolf Eyes,
Radiopuhelimet,
Whodini,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Wake,
Aaron Thompson,
Livin' Joy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gang Starr,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Cecil Taylor,
The Names,
New Age Steppers,
Nico,
Mr. Review,
Robert Görl,
Mark Hollis,
Negative Approach,
Oblivians,
Andrew Hill,
The Trojans,
Section 25,
Kevin Saunderson,
Arthur Verocai,
Brick,
La Düsseldorf,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Crime,
X-101,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Index,
The Raincoats,
Freddie Wadling,
The Standells,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Joy Division,
Soulsonic Force,
Make Up,
Lucky Dragons,
Scrapy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Skatalites,
Model 500,
Tres Demented,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ohio Players,
Siglo XX,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sun City Girls,
Sister Nancy,
Crash Course in Science,
AZ, AZ, AZ, AZ.
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.