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 Ethiopia and from Lyon.
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 Madrid and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Robert Palmer 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 Cluster to the rock 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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Skarface,
The Beau Brummels,
Blake Baxter,
The Dirtbombs,
Mo-Dettes,
Television,
The Martian,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rotary Connection,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Five Americans,
MC5,
Don Cherry,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mantronix,
Cecil Taylor,
The Wake,
Idris Muhammad,
Jeff Lynne,
Cal Tjader,
Man Eating Sloth,
Vladislav Delay,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Janne Schatter,
Ice-T,
The Cowsills,
Delon & Dalcan,
Rites of Spring,
The Divine Comedy,
Scott Walker,
Barbara Tucker,
The Neon Judgement,
The Victims,
The Stooges,
Steve Hackett,
Carl Craig,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Eli Mardock,
Monolake,
Kerrie Biddell,
The United States of America,
The Slits,
Parry Music,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Buzzcocks,
The Litter,
Reuben Wilson,
The Fall,
Metal Thangz,
Jerry Gold Smith,
X-102,
Scion,
The Remains,
Second Layer,
Harpers Bizarre,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Pop Group,
Surgeon,
The Last Poets,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bobby Byrd,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.