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 Accra.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Adolescents to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Jandek,
Masters at Work,
Wings,
Toni Rubio,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Make Up,
Lebanon Hanover,
Echospace,
Soft Cell,
Index,
Angry Samoans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dark Day,
The Mummies,
Mr. Review,
Cymande,
Fugazi,
Adolescents,
the Sonics,
JFA,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ornette Coleman,
Simply Red,
Roxette,
Black Moon,
Eve St. Jones,
Janne Schatter,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Barry Ungar,
Average White Band,
Sun City Girls,
UT,
Electric Prunes,
Wolf Eyes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sparks,
The Blues Magoos,
Grandmaster Flash,
Glambeats Corp.,
Neil Young,
Roger Hodgson,
Camberwell Now,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pantytec,
Colin Newman,
Bobby Womack,
Godley & Creme,
Bluetip,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Connie Case,
The Black Dice,
The Cowsills,
Second Layer,
Soul II Soul,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Severed Heads,
Rosa Yemen,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy.
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.