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 Mali and from Delhi.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 mellotron 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 FM Einheit 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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Larry & the Blue Notes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lungfish,
Agent Orange,
The Victims,
K-Klass,
Black Flag,
Ossler,
the Normal,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Scion,
Moebius,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Godley & Creme,
Donny Hathaway,
Eddi Front,
Jeru the Damaja,
Joensuu 1685,
Fugazi,
Cluster,
Spandau Ballet,
Lou Christie,
Hot Snakes,
David Bowie,
Johnny Clarke,
Icehouse,
The Five Americans,
The Slackers,
Amon Düül,
Don Cherry,
Minnie Riperton,
Gerry Rafferty,
Robert Görl,
Soft Machine,
Half Japanese,
Bill Near,
Deakin,
48th St. Collective,
Average White Band,
Ponytail,
These Immortal Souls,
Barbara Tucker,
Minor Threat,
Gastr Del Sol,
LL Cool J,
Roxette,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Marine Girls,
X-102,
Bauhaus,
Delta 5,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Terrestrial Tones,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Loose Ends,
Bad Manners,
Sam Rivers,
Newcleus,
The Saints,
Wally Richardson,
Rekid,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.