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 Kazakhstan and from Woodstock.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Parry Music to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Wolf Eyes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bluetip,
Todd Terry,
Franke,
The Selecter,
Cymande,
Joe Smooth,
Alphaville,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Amon Düül II,
The Seeds,
UT,
Simply Red,
Lungfish,
The Index,
Ronnie Foster,
The Gories,
Khruangbin,
Organ,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Fear,
The Moleskins,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rosa Yemen,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kurtis Blow,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Mummies,
Guru Guru,
Rhythm & Sound,
Panda Bear,
Pantytec,
La Düsseldorf,
Gastr Del Sol,
Quadrant,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lalo Schifrin,
John Foxx,
Scientists,
Malaria!,
Grandmaster Flash,
Basic Channel,
Dave Gahan,
Michelle Simonal,
The United States of America,
The Residents,
Porter Ricks,
Sex Pistols,
The Black Dice,
the Normal,
Oblivians,
Suburban Knight,
Harpers Bizarre,
CMW,
Thee Headcoats,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lou Reed,
The Sonics,
Wasted Youth,
Matthew Halsall,
Piero Umiliani,
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.