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 Cape Verde and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the techno 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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Q and Not U,
La Düsseldorf,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Blues Magoos,
Amazonics,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Donald Byrd,
Joey Negro,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Dirtbombs,
The Count Five,
A Certain Ratio,
Eurythmics,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Freddie Wadling,
Radio Birdman,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Jandek,
The Cowsills,
Public Image Ltd.,
Main Source,
Yaz,
Von Mondo,
Wally Richardson,
Dorothy Ashby,
Delta 5,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lalann,
DJ Sneak,
EPMD,
Interpol,
Y Pants,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Davy DMX,
Easy Going,
The Cramps,
Roger Hodgson,
The Gun Club,
Crime,
Jerry's Kids,
Khruangbin,
The Litter,
Circle Jerks,
Banda Bassotti,
Thee Headcoats,
Soft Cell,
Bang On A Can,
Crash Course in Science,
Ossler,
Moby Grape,
Aaron Thompson,
Ituana,
Dawn Penn,
Bootsy Collins,
Lou Christie,
Harpers Bizarre,
Babytalk,
Gang Green,
The Sonics,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.