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 Guatemala and from London.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Janne Schatter 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 Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee 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 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Lalann,
Make Up,
Ohio Players,
Silicon Teens,
DJ Style,
Matthew Bourne,
Lindisfarne,
Faust,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Litter,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Roger Hodgson,
The Leaves,
Connie Case,
Pharoah Sanders,
Scion,
Depeche Mode,
The Smiths,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Dennis Brown,
The Names,
Hasil Adkins,
K-Klass,
The Doors,
Soft Cell,
Royal Trux,
Thompson Twins,
Dead Boys,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Pop Group,
Leonard Cohen,
Slave,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Soft Cell,
Maurizio,
Little Man,
Scientists,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Buckinghams,
Joensuu 1685,
Donald Byrd,
Lou Christie,
Technova,
Swell Maps,
Lungfish,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Janne Schatter,
Peter and Kerry,
Magma,
Erykah Badu,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wolf Eyes,
Los Fastidios,
The Selecter,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
MDC,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Black Moon,
Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish.
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.