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 Greece and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Porter Ricks to the techno 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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Nils Olav,
Yusef Lateef,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bush Tetras,
Joey Negro,
Con Funk Shun,
Todd Terry,
The Vogues,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fela Kuti,
Arcadia,
Letta Mbulu,
Stiv Bators,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Crooked Eye,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Motorama,
Panda Bear,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Man Eating Sloth,
Accadde A,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lindisfarne,
Peter and Kerry,
Robert Hood,
Jeff Lynne,
Scott Walker,
T. Rex,
Thee Headcoats,
Suicide,
Monks,
Jacques Brel,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Rekid,
the Swans,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
John Cale,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Delta 5,
Robert Görl,
Idris Muhammad,
Nick Fraelich,
Harry Pussy,
Eve St. Jones,
Symarip,
Leonard Cohen,
Yazoo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Siglo XX,
Saccharine Trust,
Lyres,
Sun City Girls,
Joe Smooth,
Tom Boy,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Zapp,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Von Mondo,
Camberwell Now,
Cameo,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.