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 Netherlands and from Sao Paulo.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Make Up to the crunk 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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All The Chocolate Watch Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Franke 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minor Threat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
The Saints,
Stockholm Monsters,
Inner City,
Quantec,
the Swans,
Sex Pistols,
The Golliwogs,
Joyce Sims,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Skatalites,
The Monks,
Ultimate Spinach,
John Cale,
Intrusion,
Faust,
Roxy Music,
Sandy B,
Rites of Spring,
Kerri Chandler,
Robert Görl,
Pagans,
The Last Poets,
Television,
H. Thieme,
Wolf Eyes,
Absolute Body Control,
Jawbox,
Roxette,
Cluster,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jandek,
CMW,
Dorothy Ashby,
Wasted Youth,
Yazoo,
Animal Collective,
The Toasters,
Sonny Sharrock,
Los Fastidios,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fad Gadget,
The Monochrome Set,
Pantaleimon,
The Associates,
Sällskapet,
Matthew Halsall,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
ABBA,
Kurtis Blow,
Ten City,
Eden Ahbez,
Nation of Ulysses,
Unwound,
Arcadia,
Dennis Brown,
Skarface,
The Neon Judgement,
Mars,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.