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 Rwanda and from Bologna.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 synthesizer 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 Aaron Thompson to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Visage,
the Fania All-Stars,
Khruangbin,
Pantytec,
Simply Red,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Swans,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Kinks,
The Stooges,
L. Decosne,
DJ Style,
the Normal,
Angry Samoans,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lungfish,
The Mummies,
Gong,
Lalann,
The Smiths,
The Mojo Men,
Fat Boys,
Cal Tjader,
John Lydon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ohio Players,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Minutemen,
Ronnie Foster,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Maurizio,
Joe Smooth,
Nation of Ulysses,
CMW,
Tubeway Army,
Pantaleimon,
Laurel Aitken,
Rakim,
Sexual Harrassment,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fluxion,
Blossom Toes,
Kerrie Biddell,
Skaos,
Agent Orange,
Boz Scaggs,
Alison Limerick,
Y Pants,
John Cale,
The Barracudas,
The Monochrome Set,
Delta 5,
This Heat,
Sarah Menescal,
Tropical Tobacco,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Minor Threat,
Minny Pops,
Public Enemy,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.