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 Madagascar and from Manila.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Portland.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Sex Pistols to the rock 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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
Rotary Connection,
David McCallum,
Crispian St. Peters,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gichy Dan,
Minny Pops,
The Cowsills,
Lucky Dragons,
The Fortunes,
The Black Dice,
Kaleidoscope,
Alphaville,
Schoolly D,
Siglo XX,
Radio Birdman,
The Real Kids,
Icehouse,
The Gladiators,
The Blackbyrds,
Los Fastidios,
Pierre Henry,
Popol Vuh,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rakim,
Aswad,
Malaria!,
Wire,
Hardrive,
Colin Newman,
Laurel Aitken,
Don Cherry,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pantaleimon,
Shoche,
Y Pants,
Eric Copeland,
These Immortal Souls,
Lindisfarne,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Youth Brigade,
Tropical Tobacco,
Das Ding,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sandy B,
The Smoke,
The Trojans,
Black Moon,
Hot Snakes,
Joe Finger,
ABBA,
Infiniti,
Outsiders,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Walker Brothers,
Leonard Cohen,
Scratch Acid,
Marcia Griffiths,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.