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 Ukraine and from Seoul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Bootsy Collins to the grunge 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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jacob Miller,
Infiniti,
Television Personalities,
U.S. Maple,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ohio Players,
Technova,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jimmy McGriff,
ABBA,
Crispy Ambulance,
Harry Pussy,
Basic Channel,
Urselle,
Cal Tjader,
Freddie Wadling,
LL Cool J,
Joe Smooth,
The Cramps,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pantaleimon,
UT,
The Remains,
Theoretical Girls,
Sandy B,
Ronan,
Gang Green,
Zero Boys,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Siglo XX,
the Germs,
Josef K,
Mr. Review,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Delta 5,
The Smoke,
Harpers Bizarre,
Can,
Cheater Slicks,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lalo Schifrin,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Raincoats,
China Crisis,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Donny Hathaway,
Eric B and Rakim,
EPMD,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Oblivians,
Cameo,
Deadbeat,
Rites of Spring,
Soft Cell,
Bronski Beat,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Robert Wyatt,
Dead Boys,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.