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 Vanuatu and from Tehran.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 Index to the funk 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 Lower 48. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses 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 theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris & Cosey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
Fugazi,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Star Department,
The Human League,
Khruangbin,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
David Bowie,
Brass Construction,
The Move,
Bush Tetras,
Cheater Slicks,
Nils Olav,
Sandy B,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Grauzone,
Bobby Sherman,
Barrington Levy,
Ituana,
Bauhaus,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Charles Mingus,
Nation of Ulysses,
Saccharine Trust,
X-101,
KRS-One,
Bobby Womack,
Minnie Riperton,
The Stooges,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sister Nancy,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Country Teasers,
Danielle Patucci,
Suicide,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
cv313,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Connie Case,
Janne Schatter,
Lightning Bolt,
a-ha,
Oneida,
Japan,
Chrome,
Avey Tare,
The American Breed,
Pylon,
The Sonics,
Mo-Dettes,
Los Fastidios,
Brothers Johnson,
Easy Going,
T. Rex,
The Misunderstood,
Cluster,
June of 44,
Talk Talk,
ABC,
Ponytail,
Radiohead,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.