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 United Kingdom and from Houston.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Buzzcocks to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Negative Approach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Traffic Nightmare,
Derrick May,
The Slits,
Lightning Bolt,
PIL,
The Offenders,
Brand Nubian,
the Germs,
Basic Channel,
Joe Smooth,
Television,
Jimmy McGriff,
Tommy Roe,
Section 25,
Bill Wells,
Wolf Eyes,
Motorama,
The Smoke,
Eric Dolphy,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ultra Naté,
Scan 7,
Howard Jones,
Icehouse,
Tropical Tobacco,
X-102,
The Seeds,
Marvin Gaye,
Barry Ungar,
Lucky Dragons,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Chris & Cosey,
Todd Rundgren,
Heaven 17,
Roxy Music,
Brass Construction,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Black Dice,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Buckinghams,
Eddi Front,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Barrington Levy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The United States of America,
Dawn Penn,
Boredoms,
Schoolly D,
Bang On A Can,
Camberwell Now,
The Motions,
Fela Kuti,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lungfish,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lebanon Hanover,
Derrick Morgan,
Fort Wilson Riot,
UT,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.