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 Afghanistan 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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Philadelphia.
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 David Bowie 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 Ronnie Foster 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 Intrusion. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
Rufus Thomas,
Colin Newman,
The Count Five,
Procol Harum,
Black Sheep,
The Move,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The New Christs,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
John Holt,
Livin' Joy,
Kas Product,
Girls At Our Best!,
UT,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rhythm & Sound,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Oneida,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Durutti Column,
Television,
Franke,
La Düsseldorf,
Ten City,
Alice Coltrane,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Interpol,
Television Personalities,
Letta Mbulu,
Todd Terry,
Sound Behaviour,
Derrick Morgan,
Stetsasonic,
Isaac Hayes,
Yusef Lateef,
Minny Pops,
New York Dolls,
CMW,
R.M.O.,
Ituana,
Clear Light,
Urselle,
The Fugs,
Niagra,
Icehouse,
Rod Modell,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Saccharine Trust,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Half Japanese,
The Modern Lovers,
Sun City Girls,
The Moleskins,
The Fuzztones,
Nico,
Joyce Sims,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.