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 Russia and from Columbus.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Jeff Mills to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 DNA. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crooked Eye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
Smog,
Young Marble Giants,
Quantec,
The Birthday Party,
The Evens,
Sandy B,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Happenings,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
the Germs,
Joyce Sims,
the Swans,
The Index,
Todd Rundgren,
Cybotron,
Fatback Band,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Names,
10cc,
Big Daddy Kane,
Robert Görl,
Easy Going,
Zapp,
Mo-Dettes,
Heaven 17,
Flipper,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Saccharine Trust,
Lalann,
The Barracudas,
the Soft Cell,
The Slits,
Jacob Miller,
Pussy Galore,
Sexual Harrassment,
Black Sheep,
Zero Boys,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Brick,
Ponytail,
Scott Walker,
Stiv Bators,
Eddi Front,
Todd Terry,
Khruangbin,
Connie Case,
Bill Near,
Idris Muhammad,
H. Thieme,
Aloha Tigers,
The Move,
Banda Bassotti,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Colin Newman,
Chris Corsano,
Ice-T,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Minutemen,
Roxy Music,
Marshall Jefferson,
In Retrospect,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.