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 Eritrea and from Bologna.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Model 500,
K-Klass,
The Dave Clark Five,
Tres Demented,
The American Breed,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Babytalk,
Sarah Menescal,
The Saints,
Sixth Finger,
Jawbox,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Hardrive,
Urselle,
China Crisis,
Camouflage,
Visage,
Intrusion,
Inner City,
EPMD,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Wake,
Letta Mbulu,
Wire,
Roxette,
Crooked Eye,
The Raincoats,
The Trojans,
Echospace,
Stereo Dub,
Cymande,
Deepchord,
Swell Maps,
David McCallum,
Robert Görl,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pharoah Sanders,
Cybotron,
Pantaleimon,
Drexciya,
The Smoke,
The Red Krayola,
Malaria!,
Rod Modell,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Neon Judgement,
Crime,
UT,
Mark Hollis,
Suburban Knight,
John Holt,
Buzzcocks,
Outsiders,
The Seeds,
The Searchers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Carl Craig,
Throbbing Gristle,
Symarip,
Juan Atkins,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.