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 Panama 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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Tom Boy to the techno 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 The Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gabor Szabo,
Minnie Riperton,
Bush Tetras,
Grey Daturas,
Bobby Sherman,
Letta Mbulu,
The Sonics,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Television Personalities,
Joensuu 1685,
T. Rex,
Lalann,
Magazine,
Sex Pistols,
Trumans Water,
Alison Limerick,
Funky Four + One,
Public Image Ltd.,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Crime,
The Move,
Wire,
Bill Wells,
Sällskapet,
Adolescents,
The Slackers,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Underground Resistance,
Reuben Wilson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jacob Miller,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Whodini,
The Fugs,
Mission of Burma,
Deepchord,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Excepter,
Lakeside,
The Barracudas,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Scrapy,
Brothers Johnson,
Symarip,
Idris Muhammad,
The Litter,
Panda Bear,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Selecter,
The Gun Club,
Nils Olav,
Fluxion,
Gastr Del Sol,
Traffic Nightmare,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ultra Naté,
Warren Ellis,
Kas Product,
Peter & Gordon,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.