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 Australia and from Cairo.
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 Bologna and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bush Tetras,
F. McDonald,
Newcleus,
Yaz,
Darondo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Angry Samoans,
Jawbox,
Depeche Mode,
Ludus,
The Young Rascals,
Eyeless In Gaza,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Amon Düül II,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Cure,
The Pop Group,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Thompson Twins,
Barbara Tucker,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Public Image Ltd.,
David McCallum,
Davy DMX,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Eli Mardock,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
John Cale,
The Blues Magoos,
Symarip,
Cheater Slicks,
Archie Shepp,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jeff Lynne,
Suicide,
FM Einheit,
John Lydon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lungfish,
Joey Negro,
Cymande,
Black Pus,
Lalo Schifrin,
Q and Not U,
Kevin Saunderson,
Alton Ellis,
Glenn Branca,
Khruangbin,
Motorama,
Gang Green,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bootsy Collins,
Janne Schatter,
June of 44,
Banda Bassotti,
Donald Byrd,
Saccharine Trust,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.