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 Grenada and from Winnipeg.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 spring reverb 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 Marshall Jefferson to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Minny Pops,
Grey Daturas,
U.S. Maple,
Electric Prunes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fear,
Todd Terry,
Scott Walker,
Black Sheep,
Sun City Girls,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
John Foxx,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
B.T. Express,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Porter Ricks,
The Music Machine,
OOIOO,
Mad Mike,
Arthur Verocai,
Con Funk Shun,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lyres,
Swell Maps,
Ken Boothe,
Marshall Jefferson,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Jacob Miller,
Gang of Four,
Sonic Youth,
Silicon Teens,
48th St. Collective,
Aaron Thompson,
The Durutti Column,
The Dave Clark Five,
Organ,
John Holt,
David Axelrod,
Subhumans,
Sugar Minott,
The Fall,
The Mojo Men,
Lou Reed,
Jeff Mills,
Ituana,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Inner City,
John Cale,
CMW,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Robert Hood,
Godley & Creme,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lucky Dragons,
Surgeon,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Banda Bassotti,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ultravox,
the Soft Cell,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.