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 Nepal and from Bologna.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Stockholm.
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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Scrapy to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Reuben Wilson,
The Kinks,
Television,
Eurythmics,
Country Teasers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Schoolly D,
The Smiths,
Main Source,
Lindisfarne,
Dorothy Ashby,
Howard Jones,
Ultra Naté,
Crooked Eye,
Slave,
Khruangbin,
Animal Collective,
Index,
June of 44,
Blake Baxter,
U.S. Maple,
Japan,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Franke,
kango's stein massive,
The Names,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Blues Magoos,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Moby Grape,
The Motions,
The Move,
Connie Case,
The Offenders,
Faraquet,
Little Man,
Tres Demented,
The Slits,
Derrick Morgan,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Moleskins,
Arcadia,
Yusef Lateef,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Red Krayola,
Johnny Clarke,
the Soft Cell,
Basic Channel,
Cluster,
T.S.O.L.,
The Walker Brothers,
Cymande,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Don Cherry,
Mandrill,
Thompson Twins,
Bush Tetras,
Vainqueur,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.