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 Egypt and from Spokane.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Lightning Bolt to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aaron Thompson,
Wasted Youth,
Accadde A,
Siglo XX,
Colin Newman,
The Music Machine,
The Divine Comedy,
Mantronix,
Clear Light,
The Busters,
Royal Trux,
Q65,
Sister Nancy,
Aloha Tigers,
Glenn Branca,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sarah Menescal,
Infiniti,
Swans,
Nation of Ulysses,
Joensuu 1685,
The Tremeloes,
Danielle Patucci,
Excepter,
Mars,
Don Cherry,
Pussy Galore,
The Gladiators,
Q and Not U,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Detroit Cobras,
Cheater Slicks,
Arthur Verocai,
X-102,
Essential Logic,
Simply Red,
The Leaves,
Half Japanese,
Rekid,
The Gun Club,
Banda Bassotti,
Pantaleimon,
Max Romeo,
Black Pus,
Funky Four + One,
The Red Krayola,
Roy Ayers,
Outsiders,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gang of Four,
Matthew Halsall,
Davy DMX,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
John Cale,
Mandrill,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Albert Ayler,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Nik Kershaw,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Invisible,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.