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 Libya 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 D'Angelo 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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All Pole tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scan 7,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Eden Ahbez,
Chris & Cosey,
Grey Daturas,
The Birthday Party,
Robert Hood,
Pulsallama,
Stockholm Monsters,
Judy Mowatt,
Radiopuhelimet,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Electric Prunes,
Camouflage,
The Fall,
the Slits,
Morten Harket,
Ossler,
The Mojo Men,
Juan Atkins,
Iggy Pop,
Harmonia,
Kerri Chandler,
Clear Light,
Scott Walker,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sexual Harrassment,
Infiniti,
Hashim,
Reuben Wilson,
Soul II Soul,
Lakeside,
Monolake,
In Retrospect,
The Smoke,
Archie Shepp,
Agent Orange,
Underground Resistance,
Roy Ayers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Man Eating Sloth,
June of 44,
Hoover,
The Smiths,
Main Source,
John Lydon,
UT,
Little Man,
Tubeway Army,
Buzzcocks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Urselle,
The American Breed,
Ponytail,
Deadbeat,
Throbbing Gristle,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jandek,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.