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 Nepal and from Madrid.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro 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 Nirvana to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
Gang Gang Dance,
Agent Orange,
The Residents,
Jeff Lynne,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fat Boys,
48th St. Collective,
Rosa Yemen,
Kaleidoscope,
Marc Almond,
The Tremeloes,
Easy Going,
Peter & Gordon,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Smoke,
Funky Four + One,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sound Behaviour,
T.S.O.L.,
Fatback Band,
Bill Wells,
Sarah Menescal,
Joey Negro,
Sight & Sound,
Rod Modell,
The Fugs,
Black Moon,
Mo-Dettes,
Echospace,
Radio Birdman,
Banda Bassotti,
Joy Division,
Saccharine Trust,
The Misunderstood,
Robert Wyatt,
Rakim,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Suburban Knight,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Alton Ellis,
Delta 5,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The J.B.'s,
Ituana,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bronski Beat,
Cheater Slicks,
The Stooges,
The Human League,
Barbara Tucker,
The Names,
Index,
Clear Light,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Raincoats,
Joe Smooth,
The Star Department,
The Fall,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.