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 Papua New Guinea and from Cairo.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Charles Mingus to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aaron Thompson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Model 500,
Jeff Lynne,
Bobby Womack,
Alison Limerick,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Newcleus,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Rod Modell,
Glenn Branca,
Stiv Bators,
The Techniques,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Althea and Donna,
ABBA,
Skaos,
Cameo,
Porter Ricks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Martian,
Vladislav Delay,
Dark Day,
The Divine Comedy,
The Trojans,
Eli Mardock,
Dave Gahan,
The Star Department,
Mandrill,
Aswad,
The American Breed,
Rapeman,
Mission of Burma,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Minutemen,
Lower 48,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Stooges,
Radiohead,
Nas,
Grandmaster Flash,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Move,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Max Romeo,
The Saints,
Tim Buckley,
Cecil Taylor,
Pussy Galore,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Outsiders,
Kerrie Biddell,
Neu!,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Pantaleimon,
Sam Rivers,
Roger Hodgson,
Black Flag,
Crispian St. Peters,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.