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 Eritrea and from Stockholm.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
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 Smog to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
Soft Machine,
Scrapy,
Motorama,
Graham Central Station,
Barclay James Harvest,
Dave Gahan,
Jeru the Damaja,
Delta 5,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Traffic Nightmare,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Joensuu 1685,
Todd Terry,
Heaven 17,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Los Fastidios,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Chrome,
Moebius,
Pierre Henry,
The Residents,
Sister Nancy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Joyce Sims,
John Coltrane,
These Immortal Souls,
The Cure,
The Martian,
48th St. Collective,
Lakeside,
EPMD,
Icehouse,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Five Americans,
Lyres,
Jerry's Kids,
Silicon Teens,
Skarface,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
DNA,
the Normal,
Jesper Dahlback,
cv313,
The Offenders,
Janne Schatter,
Maurizio,
The Cramps,
Bang On A Can,
Matthew Halsall,
Ludus,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Fire Engines,
Saccharine Trust,
The Remains,
The Kinks,
Hoover,
Scientists,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.