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 Somalia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 H. Thieme to the techno 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 The Residents. All the underground hits.
All Arcadia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blackbyrds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb 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 Mummies,
Shoche,
The Barracudas,
Bronski Beat,
Michelle Simonal,
Robert Hood,
Eddi Front,
Soft Machine,
Severed Heads,
The Velvet Underground,
Big Daddy Kane,
Khruangbin,
Popol Vuh,
Minutemen,
Gang Gang Dance,
kango's stein massive,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kayak,
Sparks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Visage,
Ossler,
Yazoo,
B.T. Express,
The Cosmic Jokers,
John Coltrane,
China Crisis,
The Detroit Cobras,
Glenn Branca,
Bauhaus,
In Retrospect,
Icehouse,
Isaac Hayes,
Interpol,
Rekid,
Pet Shop Boys,
Malaria!,
The Offenders,
Lightning Bolt,
Gong,
Los Fastidios,
This Heat,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Joe Smooth,
Derrick May,
E-Dancer,
Jandek,
The Toasters,
Easy Going,
Nation of Ulysses,
Alice Coltrane,
Wings,
Al Stewart,
Mars,
Lungfish,
U.S. Maple,
Soul II Soul,
The Durutti Column,
Mr. Review,
The Flesh Eaters,
John Holt,
Hardrive,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.