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 Niger and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Circle Jerks to the electroclash 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 Trojans. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Gladiators,
Slave,
Funky Four + One,
Vainqueur,
John Coltrane,
John Foxx,
Aaron Thompson,
Sandy B,
Amon Düül,
Mars,
Guru Guru,
The Dave Clark Five,
Interpol,
Alison Limerick,
Zapp,
Unwound,
The Evens,
Mr. Review,
Ituana,
Nick Fraelich,
Soulsonic Force,
Liliput,
The Associates,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bobby Womack,
Sixth Finger,
Magma,
Bill Wells,
Au Pairs,
Altered Images,
Scott Walker,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Henry Cow,
Cluster,
Stetsasonic,
Peter & Gordon,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Section 25,
CMW,
The Human League,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Steve Hackett,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Eric Copeland,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Todd Terry,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Smoke,
Boz Scaggs,
Adolescents,
Jesper Dahlback,
Index,
Alphaville,
Rod Modell,
Niagra,
Camberwell Now,
the Swans,
A Certain Ratio,
The Fuzztones,
Morten Harket,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Judy Mowatt,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.