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 Ghana and from Stockholm.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Throbbing Gristle to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Image Ltd. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Altered Images,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Iggy Pop,
Suburban Knight,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Public Image Ltd.,
Underground Resistance,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Skaos,
Pere Ubu,
Sexual Harrassment,
Archie Shepp,
H. Thieme,
Derrick May,
Talk Talk,
Idris Muhammad,
The Human League,
The Victims,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Make Up,
Magma,
Q and Not U,
Mandrill,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Blues Magoos,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Black Moon,
Lucky Dragons,
Brand Nubian,
Fatback Band,
The Saints,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Drexciya,
Soul II Soul,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Amon Düül II,
Joensuu 1685,
E-Dancer,
Panda Bear,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ornette Coleman,
Fela Kuti,
Ultravox,
Barry Ungar,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Sam Rivers,
EPMD,
Eve St. Jones,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Birthday Party,
Chrome,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Roxy Music,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.