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 Malaysia and from Columbus.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 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 The Dead C to the techno 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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Ponytail,
Whodini,
Barbara Tucker,
Bob Dylan,
Circle Jerks,
Peter and Kerry,
Joensuu 1685,
Gong,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kenny Larkin,
The Names,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Quantec,
Flash Fearless,
Mad Mike,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rhythm & Sound,
Khruangbin,
Chris & Cosey,
Marshall Jefferson,
L. Decosne,
Boz Scaggs,
The Leaves,
Nick Fraelich,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Altered Images,
Arab on Radar,
Howard Jones,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sam Rivers,
The Blackbyrds,
The Black Dice,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Misunderstood,
The Mummies,
DJ Sneak,
Amon Düül II,
Patti Smith,
The Star Department,
a-ha,
Nirvana,
Skarface,
Chris Corsano,
Mark Hollis,
Hoover,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Simply Red,
The Grass Roots,
the Germs,
Don Cherry,
The Electric Prunes,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
John Coltrane,
Cal Tjader,
PIL,
Susan Cadogan,
Peter & Gordon,
New Age Steppers,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.