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 Macedonia and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Byron Stingily to the rock 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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Vainqueur,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Techniques,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kerri Chandler,
Skaos,
Brass Construction,
X-102,
Dave Gahan,
Boredoms,
Black Pus,
Traffic Nightmare,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Bar-Kays,
Dead Boys,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Al Stewart,
Minnie Riperton,
Half Japanese,
Connie Case,
Alphaville,
Davy DMX,
K-Klass,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Max Romeo,
The Wake,
Rufus Thomas,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Hardrive,
Soulsonic Force,
Pagans,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lakeside,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Sound,
Subhumans,
the Slits,
The Smiths,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The United States of America,
Nick Fraelich,
The Neon Judgement,
World's Most,
Graham Central Station,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Walker Brothers,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Fire Engines,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lungfish,
Scrapy,
Piero Umiliani,
Lou Reed,
T. Rex,
DJ Style,
Monks,
Babytalk,
The Grass Roots,
Mark Hollis,
Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments.
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.