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 Niger and from Glasgow.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Jimmy McGriff to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a güiro and a harpsichord 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 güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Juan Atkins,
Cluster,
The American Breed,
Joensuu 1685,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Dorothy Ashby,
John Coltrane,
The Index,
Roger Hodgson,
JFA,
Tropical Tobacco,
Boogie Down Productions,
Slave,
Echospace,
Junior Murvin,
The Alarm Clocks,
Main Source,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Slackers,
Japan,
Pulsallama,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Avey Tare,
Rod Modell,
Adolescents,
Rosa Yemen,
Minny Pops,
Hardrive,
Second Layer,
kango's stein massive,
Kerrie Biddell,
Kevin Saunderson,
Nirvana,
Flash Fearless,
Trumans Water,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Slits,
10cc,
Gichy Dan,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Porter Ricks,
Circle Jerks,
Niagra,
The Busters,
The Angels of Light,
Hasil Adkins,
Lungfish,
Funky Four + One,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Au Pairs,
Moss Icon,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Laurel Aitken,
Deakin,
Kaleidoscope,
Byron Stingily,
Robert Wyatt,
Sällskapet,
The Associates, The Associates, The Associates, The Associates.
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.