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 Equatorial Guinea and from New York.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the 808 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 Guru Guru to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Archie Shepp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord 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 an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Y Pants,
Blancmange,
Los Fastidios,
Prince Buster,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Kinks,
FM Einheit,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Music Machine,
the Slits,
E-Dancer,
Sugar Minott,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ken Boothe,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fluxion,
Moby Grape,
Easy Going,
the Swans,
Fear,
Dennis Brown,
Moebius,
The Smoke,
Marcia Griffiths,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Mission of Burma,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Durutti Column,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jerry's Kids,
Angry Samoans,
Lucky Dragons,
AZ,
The Doors,
Saccharine Trust,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Black Dice,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Harry Pussy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kayak,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Circle Jerks,
Procol Harum,
The Shadows of Knight,
John Cale,
Wings,
The Modern Lovers,
Half Japanese,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Zeros,
Talk Talk,
Index,
Roxy Music,
Second Layer,
The Litter,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.