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 Mexico 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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Tokyo.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Skaos to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eli Mardock,
Yellowson,
Fear,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
ABBA,
The Zeros,
Terry Callier,
Glambeats Corp.,
David Axelrod,
Flipper,
Y Pants,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bill Wells,
Mad Mike,
The Gap Band,
Dark Day,
Cymande,
Fat Boys,
a-ha,
The Shadows of Knight,
Joyce Sims,
Stetsasonic,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Residents,
Unwound,
Oneida,
DNA,
Warsaw,
R.M.O.,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Anthony Braxton,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Soft Cell,
David Bowie,
The Sound,
Johnny Clarke,
Deadbeat,
The Gun Club,
Connie Case,
Franke,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wally Richardson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bobby Sherman,
Mandrill,
The Five Americans,
Country Teasers,
Joe Smooth,
Andrew Hill,
Patti Smith,
The Evens,
ABC,
Marcia Griffiths,
MC5,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bang On A Can,
Ronnie Foster,
Japan,
Warren Ellis,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Young Rascals,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience, Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience, Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience, Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience.
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.