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 Vanuatu and from Calgary.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Woodstock.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the rock 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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
EPMD,
The New Christs,
Howard Jones,
Grauzone,
The Knickerbockers,
Terry Callier,
Nik Kershaw,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Brass Construction,
The Smiths,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Iggy Pop,
The Names,
H. Thieme,
Drexciya,
The Fall,
In Retrospect,
Yellowson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Delta 5,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
MDC,
Rosa Yemen,
Mo-Dettes,
Trumans Water,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Idris Muhammad,
Mark Hollis,
Lindisfarne,
June Days,
Tom Boy,
Stereo Dub,
The Kinks,
Barry Ungar,
AZ,
The Fortunes,
This Heat,
Von Mondo,
Nas,
Hot Snakes,
James White and The Blacks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pole,
Ludus,
Althea and Donna,
Eve St. Jones,
Infiniti,
Harry Pussy,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Intrusion,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Five Americans,
Blossom Toes,
Scientists,
Jerry's Kids,
John Foxx,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.