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 Guyana and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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 Shadows of Knight,
Laurel Aitken,
T.S.O.L.,
KRS-One,
The Doors,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Leaves,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tubeway Army,
Albert Ayler,
Black Moon,
Kerri Chandler,
The United States of America,
The Detroit Cobras,
Soul II Soul,
Pantaleimon,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Scrapy,
Sun Ra,
Kaleidoscope,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Swans,
Deadbeat,
Absolute Body Control,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Monks,
Black Flag,
Public Enemy,
Underground Resistance,
The Divine Comedy,
The Neon Judgement,
U.S. Maple,
Index,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Radiopuhelimet,
Fat Boys,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Curtis Mayfield,
Roxette,
FM Einheit,
Lebanon Hanover,
Q and Not U,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Cowsills,
Terry Callier,
Judy Mowatt,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sam Rivers,
Schoolly D,
The Fugs,
Avey Tare,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ronan,
Dark Day,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Bob Dylan,
K-Klass,
Al Stewart,
kango's stein massive,
Skarface,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.