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 Bahamas and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Duran Duran to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Television,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ronan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Slave,
Black Flag,
Unrelated Segments,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Monolake,
Inner City,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ultravox,
Barry Ungar,
U.S. Maple,
H. Thieme,
The United States of America,
Sun City Girls,
Lou Christie,
Schoolly D,
Wolf Eyes,
Fluxion,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Shoche,
The Sonics,
Television Personalities,
Boredoms,
One Last Wish,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lungfish,
Gang Gang Dance,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Soft Cell,
Derrick Morgan,
ABC,
Chris Corsano,
Ossler,
John Lydon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sun Ra,
Joyce Sims,
The Martian,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sister Nancy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Massinfluence,
Hashim,
Skriet,
Essential Logic,
Amon Düül II,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Saints,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Dead C,
Josef K,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.