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 Qatar 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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Taipei.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Johnny Osbourne to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Janne Schatter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
H. Thieme,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lalann,
Marmalade,
Maleditus Sound,
Rites of Spring,
Fela Kuti,
Subhumans,
Oblivians,
Derrick May,
The Vogues,
Marvin Gaye,
The Gun Club,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rosa Yemen,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Angels of Light,
The Offenders,
Thee Headcoats,
Young Marble Giants,
Toni Rubio,
Rakim,
Metal Thangz,
Circle Jerks,
Gabor Szabo,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Nils Olav,
Public Enemy,
The Fugs,
Don Cherry,
Wally Richardson,
Simply Red,
Josef K,
Jandek,
Von Mondo,
Lakeside,
Radiopuhelimet,
Mission of Burma,
Chris Corsano,
Moebius,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tubeway Army,
Sonic Youth,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pere Ubu,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Happenings,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lou Christie,
The Leaves,
Carl Craig,
Jacques Brel,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Busters,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ossler,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bush Tetras,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.