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 Afghanistan and from Toronto.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 the Normal to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gichy Dan 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 synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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?
Tommy Roe,
Ronan,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pantytec,
kango's stein massive,
Saccharine Trust,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Neon Judgement,
Nils Olav,
Joe Finger,
Gerry Rafferty,
Black Pus,
Vladislav Delay,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Erykah Badu,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
World's Most,
Sällskapet,
Kas Product,
June of 44,
Franke,
Cheater Slicks,
Infiniti,
Flamin' Groovies,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bush Tetras,
The Dirtbombs,
Michelle Simonal,
Radio Birdman,
MC5,
U.S. Maple,
Massinfluence,
Tom Boy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Hashim,
Prince Buster,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Star Department,
The Divine Comedy,
Q65,
Bob Dylan,
Shuggie Otis,
Warsaw,
The Last Poets,
Donny Hathaway,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Crime,
Eve St. Jones,
Johnny Osbourne,
Soft Machine,
The Moody Blues,
Ultravox,
The Real Kids,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Dead C,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Scan 7,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Names,
Pierre Henry,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth.
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.