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 Ukraine and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Jakarta.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Whodini to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Remains. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a JFA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mad Mike,
The Vogues,
A Certain Ratio,
Magma,
Joyce Sims,
Freddie Wadling,
Radiohead,
K-Klass,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Zeros,
The Tremeloes,
Little Man,
Dorothy Ashby,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Dark Day,
Electric Prunes,
Ohio Players,
Crime,
Motorama,
Country Teasers,
Roy Ayers,
the Association,
Steve Hackett,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Trojans,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Boredoms,
The Durutti Column,
Gabor Szabo,
Mr. Review,
Mo-Dettes,
Robert Görl,
Scan 7,
Amon Düül II,
The Busters,
The Doors,
Bauhaus,
Bobby Byrd,
John Lydon,
Excepter,
B.T. Express,
Goldenarms,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Swans,
Ludus,
Interpol,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gang Gang Dance,
Buzzcocks,
David Axelrod,
Charles Mingus,
The Dead C,
Depeche Mode,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Second Layer,
Urselle,
Duran Duran,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Theoretical Girls,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.