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 Bolivia and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and New York.
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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sugar Minott to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 KRS-One. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Black Sheep,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Index,
KRS-One,
Pole,
June Days,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bronski Beat,
Monks,
Kenny Larkin,
Brass Construction,
Matthew Bourne,
Lebanon Hanover,
Whodini,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Names,
DJ Sneak,
Leonard Cohen,
Boogie Down Productions,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Aswad,
Roy Ayers,
Ken Boothe,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Vainqueur,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cheater Slicks,
Judy Mowatt,
Joensuu 1685,
The Gladiators,
Kayak,
Jawbox,
The Neon Judgement,
Subhumans,
Bauhaus,
Sugar Minott,
Roger Hodgson,
Kurtis Blow,
Guru Guru,
MC5,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Dark Day,
Amon Düül,
Saccharine Trust,
Girls At Our Best!,
Iggy Pop,
Das Ding,
Thompson Twins,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Martian,
Gang Green,
The Gories,
Cal Tjader,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rotary Connection,
Country Teasers,
The Leaves,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gabor Szabo,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.