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 Cyprus and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bar-Kays to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gastr Del Sol,
Monolake,
Sam Rivers,
Crooked Eye,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Star Department,
Zapp,
Gang of Four,
Cluster,
Wally Richardson,
The Tremeloes,
Neu!,
Darondo,
Eddi Front,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sight & Sound,
The Move,
Flipper,
Brick,
David McCallum,
The Fall,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Neon Judgement,
The Misunderstood,
The Kinks,
Janne Schatter,
Delta 5,
David Bowie,
The Last Poets,
Eli Mardock,
Marine Girls,
Johnny Osbourne,
Minny Pops,
Jeff Mills,
The Invisible,
Reuben Wilson,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Smiths,
Kerri Chandler,
Dennis Brown,
Michelle Simonal,
UT,
the Sonics,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Y Pants,
Scratch Acid,
Robert Wyatt,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Supertramp,
These Immortal Souls,
Nils Olav,
Smog,
Royal Trux,
Chris & Cosey,
Audionom,
Quantec,
Peter & Gordon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
the Soft Cell,
Donny Hathaway,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.