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 Panama and from Mexico City.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Seeds to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
Kaleidoscope,
Los Fastidios,
The Doors,
ABBA,
FM Einheit,
Radio Birdman,
Gang of Four,
The Gun Club,
the Association,
Zero Boys,
Joe Finger,
Alphaville,
The Invisible,
The Music Machine,
Loose Ends,
Magma,
Clear Light,
This Heat,
Mandrill,
Lungfish,
Hardrive,
Eli Mardock,
Babytalk,
Wally Richardson,
Johnny Clarke,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Chrome,
Aural Exciters,
Gabor Szabo,
Mars,
Sandy B,
Tomorrow,
The Pretty Things,
Eve St. Jones,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nils Olav,
Roxy Music,
Schoolly D,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
James White and The Blacks,
Country Teasers,
Sparks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lyres,
The Toasters,
The Martian,
Radiohead,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lalo Schifrin,
Slave,
The Stooges,
Thompson Twins,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pagans,
The New Christs,
Black Moon,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.