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 Iraq and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 clarinet 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 Symarip to the grunge 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Dave Gahan,
The Invisible,
Boredoms,
Pussy Galore,
Aaron Thompson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ossler,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Agitation Free,
Warren Ellis,
Lightning Bolt,
Talk Talk,
Kerrie Biddell,
Camouflage,
Bobby Womack,
Procol Harum,
Trumans Water,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Drive Like Jehu,
John Holt,
Idris Muhammad,
Lebanon Hanover,
Joensuu 1685,
Eden Ahbez,
Spoonie Gee,
Donald Byrd,
Roxy Music,
Pantaleimon,
Alison Limerick,
Minor Threat,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Harry Pussy,
Janne Schatter,
Stiv Bators,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Hasil Adkins,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Buckinghams,
The Young Rascals,
Graham Central Station,
The Velvet Underground,
Moby Grape,
Subhumans,
L. Decosne,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Cramps,
The Divine Comedy,
The Mummies,
Grauzone,
Nico,
The Electric Prunes,
June of 44,
Rapeman,
Darondo,
The Happenings,
Rod Modell,
Marc Almond,
Joyce Sims,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod.
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.