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 Yemen and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 Sao Paulo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 clarinet 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 Scratch Acid to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Nils Olav,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Juan Atkins,
Glenn Branca,
Brand Nubian,
Harpers Bizarre,
Tim Buckley,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Mandrill,
Grandmaster Flash,
Deepchord,
Kerri Chandler,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Black Sheep,
Agitation Free,
Eve St. Jones,
Sixth Finger,
Maurizio,
Zapp,
New Age Steppers,
X-102,
Roy Ayers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Albert Ayler,
Visage,
Newcleus,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sound Behaviour,
Organ,
Cluster,
Althea and Donna,
The Saints,
Byron Stingily,
Ice-T,
EPMD,
Moss Icon,
Lakeside,
Sonny Sharrock,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Joe Smooth,
Bootsy Collins,
Mantronix,
John Foxx,
T.S.O.L.,
10cc,
Graham Central Station,
The Sound,
Cal Tjader,
Can,
Arab on Radar,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Black Dice,
Dennis Brown,
Buzzcocks,
Nirvana,
Andrew Hill,
Goldenarms,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Banda Bassotti,
Procol Harum,
a-ha,
Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan, Delon & Dalcan.
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.