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 Senegal and from Bologna.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Black Pus to the techno 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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pagans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Johnny Osbourne,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Basic Channel,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jimmy McGriff,
David Axelrod,
The Smoke,
Hoover,
Icehouse,
Fad Gadget,
Josef K,
The Walker Brothers,
The Velvet Underground,
The Tremeloes,
Jandek,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Con Funk Shun,
Q and Not U,
Pere Ubu,
Fatback Band,
Urselle,
Iggy Pop,
Buzzcocks,
Wings,
Royal Trux,
Gang Green,
Kaleidoscope,
Excepter,
Tom Boy,
Intrusion,
10cc,
Livin' Joy,
Lower 48,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Archie Shepp,
Arthur Verocai,
Wasted Youth,
Sight & Sound,
Animal Collective,
Blancmange,
Vainqueur,
Magma,
The Last Poets,
Nik Kershaw,
Index,
Organ,
the Bar-Kays,
The Birthday Party,
Electric Prunes,
David Bowie,
Marcia Griffiths,
Al Stewart,
Juan Atkins,
DJ Sneak,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Yazoo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Soul II Soul,
Ornette Coleman,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.