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 Mali and from Salvador.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Black Sheep to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thompson Twins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Dirtbombs,
Frankie Knuckles,
Swans,
Ohio Players,
Panda Bear,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Arcadia,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Zapp,
Anakelly,
The Neon Judgement,
The Pretty Things,
Junior Murvin,
The Mummies,
Gang of Four,
Amazonics,
Quando Quango,
Mantronix,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Marshall Jefferson,
Josef K,
Sexual Harrassment,
Darondo,
Throbbing Gristle,
Talk Talk,
Babytalk,
The Stooges,
Spandau Ballet,
Sugar Minott,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Eve St. Jones,
Rhythm & Sound,
Robert Hood,
Q and Not U,
Dorothy Ashby,
Camberwell Now,
Minor Threat,
Hoover,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Main Source,
This Heat,
Derrick May,
The Fuzztones,
Mo-Dettes,
the Germs,
Bauhaus,
The Leaves,
MC5,
Schoolly D,
Adolescents,
Alison Limerick,
The Selecter,
Eli Mardock,
Aloha Tigers,
Maurizio,
The Dead C,
Ornette Coleman,
Jawbox,
Wasted Youth,
Radiohead,
The Young Rascals,
Audionom,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.