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 France and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Sonic Youth to the electroclash 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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
Newcleus,
Scan 7,
Bobby Womack,
Technova,
Lebanon Hanover,
Dave Gahan,
Cameo,
Eve St. Jones,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Moody Blues,
Crooked Eye,
Harmonia,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Standells,
Theoretical Girls,
Moby Grape,
Saccharine Trust,
Model 500,
Unrelated Segments,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Toasters,
The Martian,
Scrapy,
The Five Americans,
Minutemen,
The Misunderstood,
Alice Coltrane,
Icehouse,
Barbara Tucker,
Jawbox,
Bronski Beat,
Ohio Players,
Skaos,
Procol Harum,
Prince Buster,
Swell Maps,
Radiohead,
The Searchers,
These Immortal Souls,
Bad Manners,
Dorothy Ashby,
ABBA,
Reuben Wilson,
Pussy Galore,
Half Japanese,
Black Moon,
Minny Pops,
Lungfish,
Nas,
Bluetip,
Los Fastidios,
The Vogues,
The Neon Judgement,
Brass Construction,
Masters at Work,
Sonic Youth,
China Crisis,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gang Starr,
KRS-One,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dawn Penn,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.