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 Malaysia and from Mexico City.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Harpers Bizarre to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco 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?
Blancmange,
D'Angelo,
Soul II Soul,
Fugazi,
Amon Düül II,
Eli Mardock,
Carl Craig,
Dorothy Ashby,
Frankie Knuckles,
Das Ding,
The Fall,
Jerry's Kids,
Tommy Roe,
The Doobie Brothers,
Cal Tjader,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jacques Brel,
Alice Coltrane,
Prince Buster,
The Blues Magoos,
Television Personalities,
Electric Prunes,
Von Mondo,
Lungfish,
Roy Ayers,
Johnny Osbourne,
Dual Sessions,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Nirvana,
Spoonie Gee,
Hashim,
Graham Central Station,
Eden Ahbez,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Nils Olav,
The Beau Brummels,
Bad Manners,
The American Breed,
Kurtis Blow,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kas Product,
AZ,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Soft Cell,
Circle Jerks,
DNA,
Leonard Cohen,
T.S.O.L.,
Mission of Burma,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Matthew Bourne,
Moby Grape,
MC5,
The Count Five,
Dead Boys,
Boredoms,
Neil Young,
Pulsallama,
Dark Day,
Pere Ubu,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.