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 Tajikistan and from Taipei.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 mellotron 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 Cal Tjader to the disco 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 The Doors. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Ronnie Foster,
Andrew Hill,
the Germs,
The Dead C,
The Fire Engines,
The Offenders,
Clear Light,
Guru Guru,
Swell Maps,
Deepchord,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cybotron,
Rufus Thomas,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Swans,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Fluxion,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Buzzcocks,
Lebanon Hanover,
Urselle,
ABC,
David Axelrod,
Jesper Dahlback,
Khruangbin,
Judy Mowatt,
Motorama,
The Dirtbombs,
Juan Atkins,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Technova,
The Human League,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
John Foxx,
The Blues Magoos,
The Monks,
Saccharine Trust,
Faust,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Pussy Galore,
Hot Snakes,
Alice Coltrane,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Count Five,
Unrelated Segments,
Crooked Eye,
Man Parrish,
Grey Daturas,
Bob Dylan,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
U.S. Maple,
Marshall Jefferson,
Aloha Tigers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Surgeon,
DJ Style,
Charles Mingus,
Moss Icon,
Soft Machine,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.