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 Somalia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Houston.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Letta Mbulu to the electroclash 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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All The Evens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Mad Mike,
Tomorrow,
The Star Department,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Last Poets,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Yellowson,
D'Angelo,
T.S.O.L.,
Sexual Harrassment,
Public Enemy,
Unrelated Segments,
This Heat,
The Buckinghams,
Fat Boys,
Rites of Spring,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lalo Schifrin,
Alton Ellis,
The Mojo Men,
Soul II Soul,
Sugar Minott,
Prince Buster,
Animal Collective,
Radio Birdman,
Interpol,
Livin' Joy,
Amon Düül,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Wolf Eyes,
Rekid,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Porter Ricks,
Kayak,
The J.B.'s,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kenny Larkin,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Schoolly D,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Fania All-Stars,
Tim Buckley,
Outsiders,
The Smiths,
Malaria!,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Human League,
The Slackers,
Pagans,
F. McDonald,
Scratch Acid,
Public Image Ltd.,
Robert Görl,
B.T. Express,
The Dirtbombs,
New Order,
X-102,
Don Cherry,
Franke,
Scion,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
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.