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 Chile and from Johannesburg.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Stooges to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Nico. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crooked Eye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
Minutemen,
Prince Buster,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Gories,
Fear,
Michelle Simonal,
Altered Images,
Pagans,
The Invisible,
Thompson Twins,
Theoretical Girls,
Hot Snakes,
The Gladiators,
Al Stewart,
Jesper Dahlback,
Pylon,
Groovy Waters,
Radio Birdman,
The United States of America,
The Red Krayola,
Fatback Band,
Aloha Tigers,
Mission of Burma,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Cowsills,
Marc Almond,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ohio Players,
Grandmaster Flash,
Roger Hodgson,
Crime,
The Kinks,
Gichy Dan,
Public Image Ltd.,
Smog,
Eurythmics,
Rufus Thomas,
Delta 5,
Tommy Roe,
The Wake,
Nick Fraelich,
Robert Hood,
Ten City,
DNA,
Parry Music,
Zapp,
Sandy B,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lower 48,
Minor Threat,
Pere Ubu,
Andrew Hill,
Fad Gadget,
Brothers Johnson,
Colin Newman,
Nation of Ulysses,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jeru the Damaja,
Radiohead,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.