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 Zambia and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 David Bowie 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 Rekid to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Joe Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flipper record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Dolphy,
Mandrill,
Yaz,
Ossler,
Minor Threat,
Ponytail,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Graham Central Station,
The Gun Club,
Qualms,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lightning Bolt,
Gang Starr,
Duran Duran,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Golliwogs,
Goldenarms,
Bad Manners,
Infiniti,
Pantaleimon,
JFA,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Frankie Knuckles,
Model 500,
Lalann,
David McCallum,
Hashim,
Alphaville,
The Flesh Eaters,
Symarip,
The Doors,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Misunderstood,
Eve St. Jones,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Fania All-Stars,
R.M.O.,
Kerri Chandler,
Kayak,
Rhythm & Sound,
Young Marble Giants,
Soulsonic Force,
Pharoah Sanders,
EPMD,
Unwound,
Nik Kershaw,
Cybotron,
Lakeside,
The Durutti Column,
Traffic Nightmare,
Rites of Spring,
Dead Boys,
Quadrant,
Arab on Radar,
8 Eyed Spy,
Index,
Eddi Front,
Grandmaster Flash,
Minny Pops,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Iggy Pop,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.