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 Nepal and from Copenhagen.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Outsiders to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sister Nancy,
Zero Boys,
B.T. Express,
Sixth Finger,
Dark Day,
Mr. Review,
James Chance & The Contortions,
the Swans,
Skriet,
Sandy B,
The Selecter,
Brand Nubian,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Fugs,
David Axelrod,
Das Ding,
Black Sheep,
Flamin' Groovies,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
F. McDonald,
Gichy Dan,
Infiniti,
Charles Mingus,
Q and Not U,
Marine Girls,
the Soft Cell,
The Young Rascals,
Nils Olav,
Deakin,
PIL,
Marmalade,
X-102,
Gil Scott Heron,
Janne Schatter,
The Monochrome Set,
Nirvana,
Procol Harum,
R.M.O.,
The Cowsills,
JFA,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Idris Muhammad,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Fall,
Brothers Johnson,
Kevin Saunderson,
Dead Boys,
The Alarm Clocks,
Wolf Eyes,
A Certain Ratio,
Subhumans,
James White and The Blacks,
Don Cherry,
the Bar-Kays,
Yaz,
Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry.
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.