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 Zimbabwe and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Kinks to the rap 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 Litter. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Leonard Cohen,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kerrie Biddell,
Moby Grape,
Harry Pussy,
The Wake,
The Happenings,
Warsaw,
Stetsasonic,
Echospace,
Roger Hodgson,
Minny Pops,
The Seeds,
The Gories,
Minutemen,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fat Boys,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Hot Snakes,
Iggy Pop,
Judy Mowatt,
Chris & Cosey,
Alphaville,
Eric B and Rakim,
X-102,
Sarah Menescal,
Mantronix,
Make Up,
Eric Dolphy,
Joyce Sims,
Amazonics,
Jawbox,
The Smiths,
Fear,
New Order,
Dark Day,
Avey Tare,
Stereo Dub,
Nils Olav,
Connie Case,
Piero Umiliani,
Cal Tjader,
Franke,
Drive Like Jehu,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Cure,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tommy Roe,
Gang Green,
D'Angelo,
Marvin Gaye,
Gong,
Fela Kuti,
Boogie Down Productions,
B.T. Express,
Television,
Massinfluence,
Mission of Burma,
Derrick Morgan,
Joensuu 1685,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.