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 Bahrain and from Madrid.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 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 Henry Cow to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alphaville record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
New Order,
Moebius,
Freddie Wadling,
Warsaw,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Malaria!,
Crash Course in Science,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Thee Headcoats,
Wire,
Intrusion,
Technova,
The New Christs,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Red Krayola,
The Count Five,
Eve St. Jones,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mary Jane Girls,
James White and The Blacks,
Ultra Naté,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Gladiators,
Agent Orange,
Eden Ahbez,
Quando Quango,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Brand Nubian,
Newcleus,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Star Department,
Ultimate Spinach,
Deadbeat,
Yusef Lateef,
Underground Resistance,
Minnie Riperton,
Soul Sonic Force,
LL Cool J,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dave Gahan,
Drive Like Jehu,
Carl Craig,
Ludus,
The Pop Group,
Ultravox,
Quantec,
Barclay James Harvest,
This Heat,
Moby Grape,
John Cale,
Josef K,
Slick Rick,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sound Behaviour,
The Searchers,
Echospace,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Television,
Maurizio,
Sun Ra,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.