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 Ireland and from Tehran.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Beijing.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Gong tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
John Lydon,
Hot Snakes,
Donny Hathaway,
Pantaleimon,
Unwound,
Popol Vuh,
Maurizio,
Motorama,
The Trojans,
Andrew Hill,
PIL,
The Names,
Fat Boys,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The American Breed,
the Germs,
Lower 48,
Sonic Youth,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
ABBA,
Derrick May,
Babytalk,
The Barracudas,
Scrapy,
Bootsy Collins,
These Immortal Souls,
Roy Ayers,
Ronnie Foster,
New Order,
The Slits,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Terry Callier,
Funkadelic,
John Cale,
The Vogues,
The Moleskins,
Scratch Acid,
In Retrospect,
Lyres,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rekid,
Clear Light,
Grauzone,
Juan Atkins,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Blues Magoos,
Rosa Yemen,
Max Romeo,
The Smoke,
The Angels of Light,
Oblivians,
Glambeats Corp.,
Nick Fraelich,
Absolute Body Control,
Rufus Thomas,
The Fall,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Scan 7,
The Modern Lovers,
The Litter,
John Holt,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.