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 Comoros and from Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 MC5 to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Ultravox,
Interpol,
Michelle Simonal,
Porter Ricks,
Dave Gahan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Groovy Waters,
Derrick May,
Reuben Wilson,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Birthday Party,
Soft Machine,
Lalann,
The Gories,
Letta Mbulu,
Swans,
Eddi Front,
Urselle,
Pagans,
JFA,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Radio Birdman,
Bad Manners,
Motorama,
Pharoah Sanders,
Maurizio,
The Buckinghams,
Susan Cadogan,
Eric Dolphy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
X-Ray Spex,
Khruangbin,
Graham Central Station,
The Barracudas,
Cameo,
Kool Moe Dee,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bizarre Inc.,
Babytalk,
Royal Trux,
Youth Brigade,
Derrick Morgan,
Marcia Griffiths,
One Last Wish,
Quadrant,
the Swans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Mars,
Bang On A Can,
Make Up,
Oblivians,
The Toasters,
Lindisfarne,
Infiniti,
Lyres,
Mary Jane Girls,
Suicide,
Subhumans,
Deakin,
Lower 48,
Leonard Cohen,
James White and The Blacks,
Bobby Byrd,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.