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 Liechtenstein and from Johannesburg.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 oboe 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 Unwound to the electroclash 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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
One Last Wish,
Goldenarms,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sparks,
Donald Byrd,
The Moody Blues,
Ronnie Foster,
Masters at Work,
The Barracudas,
The Shadows of Knight,
Depeche Mode,
Boredoms,
Jacob Miller,
Sister Nancy,
The Busters,
the Sonics,
Kevin Saunderson,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Unwound,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Soft Machine,
Hardrive,
The Knickerbockers,
Peter & Gordon,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Raincoats,
Funky Four + One,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gong,
the Soft Cell,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Human League,
John Holt,
H. Thieme,
The Smoke,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Guru Guru,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Fear,
Panda Bear,
The Durutti Column,
Tears for Fears,
Albert Ayler,
Gerry Rafferty,
Grey Daturas,
Clear Light,
Ash Ra Tempel,
New Age Steppers,
Scan 7,
The Move,
Barclay James Harvest,
Tim Buckley,
Amon Düül,
The Dave Clark Five,
James White and The Blacks,
Sandy B,
Pulsallama,
Cybotron,
Surgeon,
Delta 5,
Michelle Simonal,
Reuben Wilson,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.