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 Turkmenistan and from Paris.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Quantec to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Buzzcocks,
Piero Umiliani,
Eden Ahbez,
Chris & Cosey,
Model 500,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ice-T,
Absolute Body Control,
The Skatalites,
The Index,
The Doors,
Rakim,
Soulsonic Force,
Byron Stingily,
Scan 7,
U.S. Maple,
Monks,
The Happenings,
Radiohead,
The Techniques,
Masters at Work,
the Association,
the Slits,
The Sound,
Kayak,
Inner City,
The Move,
Nils Olav,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bill Wells,
Bang On A Can,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ossler,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Fugs,
Lebanon Hanover,
Faust,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Roy Ayers,
Television,
Second Layer,
The Velvet Underground,
Chrome,
Smog,
John Foxx,
Fad Gadget,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Real Kids,
Cybotron,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Joe Finger,
The Seeds,
Traffic Nightmare,
X-101,
Archie Shepp,
World's Most,
Scratch Acid,
Outsiders,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.