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 Uruguay and from Copenhagen.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 theremin 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 Arcadia to the rap 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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nico record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
The Young Rascals,
The Barracudas,
Reagan Youth,
Alphaville,
Nick Fraelich,
Anakelly,
The Mummies,
Buzzcocks,
Marmalade,
the Swans,
Joyce Sims,
Anthony Braxton,
Todd Rundgren,
The Dead C,
Kerri Chandler,
Nils Olav,
Jacques Brel,
Cameo,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Make Up,
In Retrospect,
Cluster,
Silicon Teens,
The Angels of Light,
Shoche,
John Coltrane,
Ultra Naté,
F. McDonald,
Wally Richardson,
JFA,
Graham Central Station,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Heaven 17,
Theoretical Girls,
Fugazi,
Motorama,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ituana,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Depeche Mode,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
R.M.O.,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Busters,
Idris Muhammad,
Metal Thangz,
Man Parrish,
Skriet,
World's Most,
Donald Byrd,
Crash Course in Science,
Spoonie Gee,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Fuzztones,
AZ,
Gang Starr,
Black Flag,
Television Personalities,
Roxette,
E-Dancer,
Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls.
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.