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 Bolivia and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 clarinet 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 Jesper Dahlbäck to the dance 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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
Can,
Monks,
The United States of America,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Slits,
Y Pants,
The Beau Brummels,
Sällskapet,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Marshall Jefferson,
Reagan Youth,
Smog,
Groovy Waters,
Wings,
Anakelly,
Buzzcocks,
Outsiders,
Deadbeat,
Massinfluence,
Boredoms,
Lakeside,
Blossom Toes,
Icehouse,
X-Ray Spex,
Interpol,
DNA,
the Swans,
Adolescents,
Negative Approach,
The Knickerbockers,
Mad Mike,
OOIOO,
Gang Green,
PIL,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Fugazi,
Rufus Thomas,
Con Funk Shun,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Parry Music,
Bush Tetras,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
L. Decosne,
Roy Ayers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Symarip,
The Index,
Johnny Osbourne,
Tubeway Army,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Duran Duran,
Suicide,
The Kinks,
The Victims,
The J.B.'s,
Heaven 17,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.