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 Samoa and from Tehran.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 güiro 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 Pole to the crunk 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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
The Pop Group,
Oblivians,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Public Image Ltd.,
Prince Buster,
Alphaville,
Radiohead,
Gichy Dan,
Eyeless In Gaza,
L. Decosne,
Black Flag,
Deepchord,
Underground Resistance,
Alice Coltrane,
The Neon Judgement,
Josef K,
Rosa Yemen,
Intrusion,
The Knickerbockers,
The Standells,
Cecil Taylor,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sight & Sound,
Blossom Toes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Black Moon,
The Human League,
The Flesh Eaters,
Suicide,
This Heat,
Pharoah Sanders,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bob Dylan,
The Red Krayola,
Organ,
Camouflage,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cybotron,
Lower 48,
Nirvana,
FM Einheit,
Soulsonic Force,
Janne Schatter,
Severed Heads,
Laurel Aitken,
Leonard Cohen,
The Young Rascals,
Rufus Thomas,
The American Breed,
D'Angelo,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Carl Craig,
E-Dancer,
Reagan Youth,
Infiniti,
Joyce Sims,
Young Marble Giants,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Traffic Nightmare,
Joey Negro,
Jacques Brel,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.