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 Samoa and from Jakarta.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Portland.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 H. Thieme to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Main Source 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings 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?
Nirvana,
The Gun Club,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tomorrow,
Laurel Aitken,
Josef K,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Wolf Eyes,
Swans,
cv313,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bobby Byrd,
Television Personalities,
Warsaw,
Barclay James Harvest,
Man Parrish,
Marvin Gaye,
Kayak,
Crash Course in Science,
Joyce Sims,
the Germs,
Guru Guru,
Maurizio,
Dave Gahan,
Basic Channel,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Martian,
Crime,
X-102,
Bill Near,
Lee Hazlewood,
Joey Negro,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Circle Jerks,
Heaven 17,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rosa Yemen,
Blake Baxter,
The Buckinghams,
Eurythmics,
Alphaville,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Joe Smooth,
Carl Craig,
Reagan Youth,
Radiohead,
R.M.O.,
The Invisible,
Glenn Branca,
Cecil Taylor,
The Cure,
The Seeds,
The Fortunes,
Pantaleimon,
Buzzcocks,
Bauhaus,
Gang of Four,
Symarip,
Tres Demented,
The Misunderstood,
Kas Product,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.