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 Fiji and from Madrid.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 theremin 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 Wolf Eyes to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Robert Görl tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Todd Terry,
Goldenarms,
Tim Buckley,
Nico,
Groovy Waters,
The Count Five,
The Moody Blues,
Janne Schatter,
The Slackers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Siglo XX,
Todd Rundgren,
Ultimate Spinach,
Roy Ayers,
D'Angelo,
Eve St. Jones,
Tres Demented,
The Alarm Clocks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Crime,
The Motions,
Soft Machine,
K-Klass,
Bang On A Can,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Byron Stingily,
The Cowsills,
Skarface,
Crispy Ambulance,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Gories,
Joyce Sims,
Bobby Womack,
Lee Hazlewood,
Dennis Brown,
Minnie Riperton,
Blancmange,
Lalann,
Graham Central Station,
Crispian St. Peters,
Spandau Ballet,
Donald Byrd,
Reagan Youth,
Arthur Verocai,
Bill Wells,
Lucky Dragons,
Make Up,
Jandek,
kango's stein massive,
Amazonics,
Cheater Slicks,
Junior Murvin,
Young Marble Giants,
Funkadelic,
Faust,
The Gap Band,
The Trojans,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.