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 Nauru and from Woodstock.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 mellotron 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 Harmonia to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Remains record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiohead,
Barrington Levy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gang Green,
Black Moon,
Simply Red,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Associates,
Groovy Waters,
JFA,
Monolake,
John Cale,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Human League,
Iggy Pop,
Jeff Mills,
Excepter,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Public Enemy,
Prince Buster,
Godley & Creme,
Gastr Del Sol,
Eric Dolphy,
Lakeside,
Barry Ungar,
Los Fastidios,
Radio Birdman,
Lindisfarne,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Soft Cell,
Y Pants,
The United States of America,
Ultimate Spinach,
Scion,
Nirvana,
The Durutti Column,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Leaves,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Pretty Things,
Pulsallama,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
New Age Steppers,
Tommy Roe,
Ten City,
Pussy Galore,
Brick,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Frankie Knuckles,
Carl Craig,
Adolescents,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cymande,
Don Cherry,
Royal Trux,
Andrew Hill,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Matthew Bourne,
E-Dancer,
The Barracudas,
The Detroit Cobras,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.