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 Laos and from Tehran.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 oboe 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 Stockholm Monsters to the grunge 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 The Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Wasted Youth,
Scratch Acid,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sparks,
John Lydon,
Mantronix,
Magma,
Pantaleimon,
Eurythmics,
Procol Harum,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Los Fastidios,
Barrington Levy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
T. Rex,
Swans,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Fall,
The Residents,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jawbox,
Josef K,
Kayak,
The Litter,
Easy Going,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
H. Thieme,
the Bar-Kays,
Banda Bassotti,
The Cure,
EPMD,
Bootsy Collins,
These Immortal Souls,
The Zeros,
Schoolly D,
This Heat,
The Gun Club,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Technova,
Eli Mardock,
Minutemen,
Newcleus,
June Days,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Shoche,
Zapp,
Derrick May,
Chrome,
John Foxx,
The Fortunes,
Quantec,
Kaleidoscope,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Interpol,
JFA, JFA, JFA, JFA.
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.