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 Norway and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 MDC to the techno 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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood 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 an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Scan 7,
Arab on Radar,
The Fugs,
Suburban Knight,
Kenny Larkin,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
T.S.O.L.,
the Sonics,
Porter Ricks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kas Product,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Bar-Kays,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
These Immortal Souls,
Bad Manners,
Dark Day,
Suicide,
Todd Rundgren,
Khruangbin,
Reuben Wilson,
Harry Pussy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rakim,
Anthony Braxton,
Liliput,
Youth Brigade,
Warren Ellis,
Jimmy McGriff,
Newcleus,
The Raincoats,
Tubeway Army,
Tears for Fears,
Prince Buster,
Bob Dylan,
Lightning Bolt,
Grauzone,
New York Dolls,
The Star Department,
Darondo,
Lindisfarne,
Nils Olav,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Godley & Creme,
Franke,
Mission of Burma,
Rhythm & Sound,
Country Joe & The Fish,
10cc,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Toni Rubio,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Slits,
Black Bananas,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Groovy Waters,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.