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 Japan and from Tokyo.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 U.S. Maple to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun City Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Bourne,
Tres Demented,
Albert Ayler,
Mandrill,
Eden Ahbez,
Vladislav Delay,
Davy DMX,
The Slits,
The Raincoats,
Goldenarms,
Ornette Coleman,
The Five Americans,
Carl Craig,
Thee Headcoats,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Harry Pussy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Scrapy,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Tears for Fears,
The Slackers,
Soft Machine,
Hoover,
Rites of Spring,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Swans,
Joensuu 1685,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Suicide,
Schoolly D,
The Gories,
Accadde A,
Deadbeat,
The Names,
Oblivians,
Smog,
The Associates,
Camberwell Now,
Throbbing Gristle,
Country Teasers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Man Parrish,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jacques Brel,
Sister Nancy,
New Order,
Lalann,
Alphaville,
Eli Mardock,
Stereo Dub,
10cc,
Cluster,
Yusef Lateef,
Deakin,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Simply Red,
ABBA,
Organ,
The Human League,
Dead Boys,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.