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 Singapore and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Glasgow.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Flamin' Groovies to the crunk 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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Wolf Eyes,
The Pretty Things,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Glambeats Corp.,
Fatback Band,
T. Rex,
Underground Resistance,
Young Marble Giants,
Cluster,
John Lydon,
Nils Olav,
Outsiders,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ohio Players,
Sight & Sound,
Black Pus,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Barracudas,
Lakeside,
Kaleidoscope,
Alison Limerick,
Cymande,
CMW,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Moss Icon,
Max Romeo,
Henry Cow,
Blake Baxter,
The Trojans,
The Martian,
Tommy Roe,
Deadbeat,
Gong,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Absolute Body Control,
DNA,
The Invisible,
Minutemen,
Technova,
Pulsallama,
Soulsonic Force,
Fluxion,
Boogie Down Productions,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Scrapy,
World's Most,
Aloha Tigers,
Wally Richardson,
Roy Ayers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Moby Grape,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Radiopuhelimet,
Roxette,
the Soft Cell,
Rapeman,
Essential Logic,
Morten Harket,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.