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 Papua New Guinea and from Mumbai.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 theremin 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 The Gun Club to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All Von Mondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
The Kinks,
Interpol,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gong,
Patti Smith,
China Crisis,
Little Man,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lalann,
Marine Girls,
The Standells,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
KRS-One,
Kurtis Blow,
The Modern Lovers,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
John Cale,
Skriet,
Nirvana,
Sällskapet,
Television,
Man Parrish,
Iggy Pop,
Funky Four + One,
Radio Birdman,
Blake Baxter,
Kevin Saunderson,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gabor Szabo,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Nick Fraelich,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Robert Wyatt,
The Shadows of Knight,
Spoonie Gee,
Goldenarms,
The Monks,
Black Flag,
Arab on Radar,
The Dead C,
Terrestrial Tones,
Index,
The Grass Roots,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Desert Stars,
The Searchers,
Inner City,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Anthony Braxton,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ronnie Foster,
Zapp,
Soulsonic Force,
X-Ray Spex,
Porter Ricks,
Gil Scott Heron,
Stereo Dub,
Circle Jerks,
Kerri Chandler,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
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.