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 Germany and from Stockholm.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Pussy Galore to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Archie Shepp,
Nils Olav,
Maurizio,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ossler,
Josef K,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tom Boy,
Sister Nancy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Wally Richardson,
Donny Hathaway,
Franke,
Patti Smith,
Al Stewart,
Wings,
Andrew Hill,
Wolf Eyes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sam Rivers,
Alison Limerick,
Tropical Tobacco,
Albert Ayler,
Cameo,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
T. Rex,
Main Source,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Germs,
Mo-Dettes,
Marvin Gaye,
Pylon,
Black Sheep,
Cecil Taylor,
Arthur Verocai,
Depeche Mode,
The Slits,
The Cure,
The Music Machine,
Black Moon,
Pole,
Goldenarms,
PIL,
Vainqueur,
Soul Sonic Force,
FM Einheit,
Robert Hood,
Kurtis Blow,
Drexciya,
Colin Newman,
Morten Harket,
Godley & Creme,
D'Angelo,
Cymande,
Boredoms,
Angry Samoans,
Young Marble Giants,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lalo Schifrin,
Audionom, Audionom, Audionom, Audionom.
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.