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 Slovakia and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 marimba 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 Barry Ungar to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Mills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
DJ Sneak,
Black Moon,
Smog,
Lou Christie,
Moby Grape,
Simply Red,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Danielle Patucci,
the Association,
Bill Near,
Scan 7,
The Five Americans,
Dave Gahan,
F. McDonald,
Stiv Bators,
Faust,
Avey Tare,
Sight & Sound,
Alison Limerick,
Colin Newman,
Ten City,
Bill Wells,
Davy DMX,
The Tremeloes,
June of 44,
Shoche,
Von Mondo,
Soft Cell,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Dead C,
Los Fastidios,
Heaven 17,
Inner City,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Procol Harum,
Saccharine Trust,
Arthur Verocai,
Tears for Fears,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Slits,
Bobby Womack,
Rekid,
Magma,
Nik Kershaw,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Happenings,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bobbi Humphrey,
John Foxx,
Alton Ellis,
These Immortal Souls,
The Fire Engines,
Wasted Youth,
Jawbox,
Deepchord,
Letta Mbulu,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
KRS-One,
Vladislav Delay,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.