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 Venezuela and from Edmonton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 arpeggiator 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 Altered Images to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Evens. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
Peter & Gordon,
Intrusion,
Deakin,
Colin Newman,
Wire,
Delta 5,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Warren Ellis,
Jeru the Damaja,
Chrome,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Black Moon,
The United States of America,
The Durutti Column,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jacob Miller,
Moby Grape,
Radio Birdman,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Josef K,
Scratch Acid,
Desert Stars,
10cc,
Brass Construction,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Tres Demented,
Angry Samoans,
Don Cherry,
Quando Quango,
Niagra,
Monolake,
New York Dolls,
The Evens,
World's Most,
Nils Olav,
Ralphi Rosario,
Jandek,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Talk Talk,
Animal Collective,
Vainqueur,
The Sonics,
Dennis Brown,
Jeff Mills,
Skarface,
The Fuzztones,
Gregory Isaacs,
Fugazi,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Count Five,
Sugar Minott,
The Selecter,
Cybotron,
Pagans,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Human League,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.