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 Azerbaijan and from Lille.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 marimba 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 Lee Hazlewood to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eddi Front,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Carl Craig,
U.S. Maple,
Ituana,
Gabor Szabo,
Radio Birdman,
Gang Gang Dance,
Dennis Brown,
Urselle,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Davy DMX,
Kas Product,
the Bar-Kays,
Angry Samoans,
CMW,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gang of Four,
The Martian,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Real Kids,
Al Stewart,
Kurtis Blow,
Jandek,
The Monks,
X-102,
Alphaville,
Gang Green,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Dead Boys,
Theoretical Girls,
The Gap Band,
Brass Construction,
The Index,
Das Ding,
Bill Near,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Busters,
Ice-T,
Basic Channel,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lou Reed,
Goldenarms,
Arthur Verocai,
Scan 7,
Bronski Beat,
Rotary Connection,
Tom Boy,
Skriet,
Sonic Youth,
Godley & Creme,
Scientists,
Big Daddy Kane,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cluster,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Kinks,
The Doors,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.