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 Equatorial Guinea and from Mexico City.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Shuggie Otis to the disco 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 The Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Vogues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Roxette,
Junior Murvin,
Little Man,
Dark Day,
Althea and Donna,
Reuben Wilson,
Dennis Brown,
The United States of America,
Young Marble Giants,
Public Enemy,
the Swans,
Spandau Ballet,
John Cale,
Vladislav Delay,
Gabor Szabo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Skaos,
Fatback Band,
Gichy Dan,
The Remains,
Kerri Chandler,
Alton Ellis,
Eli Mardock,
Whodini,
Make Up,
The Cure,
Roy Ayers,
The Raincoats,
Nico,
Judy Mowatt,
Sun City Girls,
Juan Atkins,
Donny Hathaway,
Pagans,
Rufus Thomas,
Vainqueur,
Pole,
Funkadelic,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sun Ra,
Blake Baxter,
Amon Düül,
Motorama,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Black Bananas,
Ronan,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gil Scott Heron,
La Düsseldorf,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
L. Decosne,
A Certain Ratio,
Tom Boy,
Freddie Wadling,
Ronnie Foster,
Heaven 17,
Toni Rubio,
Harry Pussy,
The Trojans,
Deadbeat,
The Leaves,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.