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 Lithuania and from Tehran.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 theremin 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Deepchord tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
In Retrospect,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Mark Hollis,
Rhythm & Sound,
Harry Pussy,
China Crisis,
Minnie Riperton,
Dark Day,
The Star Department,
Toni Rubio,
Heaven 17,
Little Man,
Pantaleimon,
The Blues Magoos,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bootsy Collins,
The Fall,
Audionom,
The Detroit Cobras,
John Holt,
The Mojo Men,
Au Pairs,
X-101,
Talk Talk,
Inner City,
Jandek,
Interpol,
Jawbox,
Whodini,
The Martian,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Selecter,
Agent Orange,
Steve Hackett,
La Düsseldorf,
Juan Atkins,
Fluxion,
Youth Brigade,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jesper Dahlback,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Names,
Reagan Youth,
Mars,
Saccharine Trust,
Half Japanese,
Mantronix,
Lungfish,
Rapeman,
The Angels of Light,
The Misunderstood,
Patti Smith,
a-ha,
Ken Boothe,
The Dead C,
Colin Newman,
The Fugs,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.