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 Gambia and from Houston.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 The Birthday Party to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors 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 linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Schoolly D,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Normal,
John Cale,
Audionom,
Sugar Minott,
Bush Tetras,
Pylon,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Guru Guru,
Blossom Toes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Vladislav Delay,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
David Bowie,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jacob Miller,
Jeff Mills,
KRS-One,
John Foxx,
Delta 5,
Wire,
B.T. Express,
Organ,
Procol Harum,
New York Dolls,
The Cowsills,
the Swans,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Nation of Ulysses,
Yazoo,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Prince Buster,
The Gories,
Todd Rundgren,
Oblivians,
Zero Boys,
Suicide,
Porter Ricks,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gastr Del Sol,
Eve St. Jones,
The Mummies,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fat Boys,
Marvin Gaye,
Agent Orange,
Jerry's Kids,
Circle Jerks,
Quadrant,
Urselle,
Josef K,
PIL,
The Doors,
CMW,
Carl Craig,
Funky Four + One,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jacques Brel,
Lou Christie,
Soulsonic Force,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.