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 Congo and from Tehran.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Tropical Tobacco to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Morten Harket record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Pantaleimon,
Jeru the Damaja,
Arthur Verocai,
Severed Heads,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
X-Ray Spex,
The Fuzztones,
The Standells,
The Star Department,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Camouflage,
Eric Dolphy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
John Lydon,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nico,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jerry Gold Smith,
One Last Wish,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lightning Bolt,
The Five Americans,
Sarah Menescal,
Surgeon,
EPMD,
Moby Grape,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The American Breed,
Q and Not U,
Magma,
Sight & Sound,
Pulsallama,
China Crisis,
Public Enemy,
Interpol,
The Durutti Column,
Bang On A Can,
Amazonics,
Rotary Connection,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Circle Jerks,
Pharoah Sanders,
Wasted Youth,
Amon Düül,
Arcadia,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Brothers Johnson,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eric Copeland,
Lou Christie,
Graham Central Station,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Misunderstood,
Wolf Eyes,
DNA,
Sister Nancy,
Jeff Mills,
Hoover,
The Divine Comedy,
Gil Scott Heron,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.