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 Syria and from Edmonton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Paris.
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 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 Michael McDonald 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 Suburban Knight to the grunge 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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
Mission of Burma,
The Index,
Patti Smith,
Reuben Wilson,
Vladislav Delay,
Sixth Finger,
Sister Nancy,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Marine Girls,
Dark Day,
Cybotron,
David Bowie,
Althea and Donna,
The Count Five,
Faust,
Todd Rundgren,
One Last Wish,
Tommy Roe,
Sällskapet,
Ronan,
Minutemen,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Music Machine,
Stetsasonic,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Theoretical Girls,
Lalann,
Joensuu 1685,
The Cowsills,
Shuggie Otis,
Kas Product,
The Misunderstood,
Bush Tetras,
The Gun Club,
Subhumans,
Tim Buckley,
Ultra Naté,
Porter Ricks,
Flipper,
Radiohead,
Crime,
Bizarre Inc.,
Little Man,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Soul II Soul,
Charles Mingus,
Nils Olav,
Los Fastidios,
Unwound,
La Düsseldorf,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jawbox,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kayak,
Alison Limerick,
Roxy Music,
The Invisible,
Glenn Branca,
Archie Shepp,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.