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 Kuwait 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sam Rivers to the grime 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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
The Five Americans,
Kas Product,
JFA,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Arthur Verocai,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Minny Pops,
Sandy B,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Arcadia,
The Real Kids,
Black Flag,
Wire,
Donald Byrd,
Excepter,
Suicide,
Pantaleimon,
Moss Icon,
Dave Gahan,
Connie Case,
Blake Baxter,
Soulsonic Force,
L. Decosne,
Deakin,
Model 500,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Peter and Kerry,
Brand Nubian,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sexual Harrassment,
Derrick May,
Bob Dylan,
Gichy Dan,
ABC,
H. Thieme,
The Index,
Pere Ubu,
Janne Schatter,
Roy Ayers,
Ultravox,
Fat Boys,
Q and Not U,
Black Bananas,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Procol Harum,
Circle Jerks,
Harry Pussy,
Bootsy Collins,
Skarface,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Sonics,
Public Enemy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Duran Duran,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Grass Roots,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Nico,
Lyres,
Toni Rubio,
The J.B.'s,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.