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 Mongolia and from Bremen.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Wire. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Young Marble Giants,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Hardrive,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Isaac Hayes,
Laurel Aitken,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Last Poets,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Suicide,
Ultravox,
Lungfish,
New Age Steppers,
Audionom,
Electric Prunes,
Joensuu 1685,
Grey Daturas,
The J.B.'s,
Bootsy Collins,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Moody Blues,
Cymande,
the Sonics,
Main Source,
Stockholm Monsters,
One Last Wish,
John Coltrane,
X-101,
OOIOO,
Warren Ellis,
Gang of Four,
Soft Machine,
Aaron Thompson,
Bad Manners,
Shoche,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Khruangbin,
X-Ray Spex,
Ten City,
Matthew Bourne,
Ultra Naté,
Lalo Schifrin,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Blues Magoos,
Glenn Branca,
Technova,
Monks,
Kerri Chandler,
Second Layer,
Chris Corsano,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Barracudas,
The Saints,
Excepter,
Dave Gahan,
Visage,
Au Pairs,
Ronnie Foster,
10cc,
H. Thieme,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.