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 Philippines and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry to the disco 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
Qualms,
Aural Exciters,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Fifty Foot Hose,
MC5,
Lou Reed,
The Pretty Things,
Wire,
World's Most,
Carl Craig,
Pierre Henry,
The Golliwogs,
Brothers Johnson,
Duran Duran,
Jeff Mills,
T. Rex,
The Slackers,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Das Ding,
Whodini,
Donny Hathaway,
Dark Day,
The Angels of Light,
The Five Americans,
Saccharine Trust,
Country Teasers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Barracudas,
Kas Product,
John Foxx,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tim Buckley,
Crooked Eye,
Mission of Burma,
LL Cool J,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Radio Birdman,
The Beau Brummels,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Connie Case,
Rites of Spring,
Marc Almond,
The Alarm Clocks,
DJ Sneak,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Warren Ellis,
Pagans,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
OOIOO,
The Standells,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Dirtbombs,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Suburban Knight,
Archie Shepp,
The Durutti Column,
Letta Mbulu,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.