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 St Lucia and from Johannesburg.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 harpsichord 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 Crispy Ambulance to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Faust. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nico record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
June Days,
Soft Machine,
Cluster,
Agent Orange,
The Techniques,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Make Up,
The Trojans,
The Motions,
Joy Division,
E-Dancer,
Freddie Wadling,
Magazine,
Ornette Coleman,
Lou Christie,
Minnie Riperton,
Cal Tjader,
Matthew Halsall,
The Angels of Light,
The Real Kids,
The Wake,
Altered Images,
Camouflage,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pussy Galore,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sex Pistols,
Nik Kershaw,
Donald Byrd,
MDC,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bad Manners,
the Slits,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Talk Talk,
Bootsy Collins,
Marmalade,
The Mummies,
Fort Wilson Riot,
LL Cool J,
a-ha,
Nico,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pylon,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Television Personalities,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Mars,
Sonny Sharrock,
Peter and Kerry,
Camberwell Now,
Livin' Joy,
The Five Americans,
Connie Case,
The Barracudas,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Main Source,
Tres Demented,
Ponytail,
Todd Terry,
Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott.
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.