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 Algeria and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Jeff Mills. All the underground hits.
All the Association tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
the Association,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Aswad,
Jacques Brel,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Reagan Youth,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gabor Szabo,
Popol Vuh,
The Buckinghams,
Throbbing Gristle,
Blake Baxter,
Negative Approach,
Johnny Clarke,
Cameo,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Marc Almond,
The Barracudas,
The Vogues,
Scott Walker,
Soul II Soul,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Gun Club,
Gang Starr,
The Sonics,
Eve St. Jones,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Doobie Brothers,
Donald Byrd,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Panda Bear,
the Sonics,
U.S. Maple,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Rekid,
Moss Icon,
Loose Ends,
Jesper Dahlback,
Nirvana,
The Beau Brummels,
Blossom Toes,
The J.B.'s,
Wasted Youth,
Cheater Slicks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Wake,
Mad Mike,
The Moody Blues,
Tears for Fears,
The Mojo Men,
The Black Dice,
Siglo XX,
Nico,
FM Einheit,
Joe Smooth,
Peter and Kerry,
Carl Craig,
Excepter,
Agent Orange,
Bush Tetras,
The Pretty Things,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.