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 Bulgaria and from Columbus.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 snare 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 Theoretical Girls to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Jawbox. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
X-101,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Tubeway Army,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Beau Brummels,
Sun Ra,
Massinfluence,
Ossler,
Henry Cow,
Nirvana,
Bill Wells,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Slits,
The Tremeloes,
Janne Schatter,
Basic Channel,
Minutemen,
Clear Light,
the Normal,
Frankie Knuckles,
Grauzone,
Tropical Tobacco,
John Holt,
Jacques Brel,
Khruangbin,
Liliput,
Curtis Mayfield,
Joe Smooth,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Negative Approach,
The Golliwogs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Inner City,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Qualms,
The Zeros,
Easy Going,
Bronski Beat,
The Slackers,
the Bar-Kays,
Schoolly D,
Hasil Adkins,
The Divine Comedy,
Erasure,
Adolescents,
Fatback Band,
The Gun Club,
Thee Headcoats,
Joensuu 1685,
Young Marble Giants,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Davy DMX,
L. Decosne,
Rekid,
John Foxx,
Prince Buster,
Sixth Finger,
The New Christs,
Alton Ellis,
Minny Pops,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
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.