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 Togo and from Bremen.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Raincoats to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Steve Hackett. All the underground hits.
All One Last Wish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deepchord record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
Desert Stars,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Remains,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bad Manners,
Tommy Roe,
Terrestrial Tones,
Cecil Taylor,
The Searchers,
Hot Snakes,
U.S. Maple,
Ken Boothe,
Janne Schatter,
John Cale,
Brass Construction,
Alphaville,
Bang On A Can,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Peter and Kerry,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Soft Cell,
Mark Hollis,
The Last Poets,
Blancmange,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Amazonics,
Fad Gadget,
Magma,
the Normal,
Kenny Larkin,
Con Funk Shun,
Main Source,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pagans,
The Skatalites,
Erykah Badu,
Prince Buster,
Ronnie Foster,
Duran Duran,
Eve St. Jones,
The Seeds,
Zapp,
Sonic Youth,
Eddi Front,
Charles Mingus,
Fat Boys,
Infiniti,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
MDC,
Man Parrish,
The Victims,
Ituana,
Isaac Hayes,
Boz Scaggs,
Agitation Free,
Amon Düül,
Clear Light,
OOIOO,
Cabaret Voltaire,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.