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 Jordan and from Seoul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 organ 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 Unwound to the rock 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
Godley & Creme,
Monks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Oneida,
Arab on Radar,
The Knickerbockers,
Babytalk,
Ronnie Foster,
Mad Mike,
The Cramps,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mo-Dettes,
Hot Snakes,
Avey Tare,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Standells,
Tomorrow,
John Foxx,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Fire Engines,
Quadrant,
Ornette Coleman,
Hasil Adkins,
Section 25,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tommy Roe,
Donald Byrd,
The Red Krayola,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Donny Hathaway,
Graham Central Station,
Wasted Youth,
Interpol,
ABBA,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Skaos,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Barclay James Harvest,
Negative Approach,
The Young Rascals,
Soul II Soul,
Aloha Tigers,
John Coltrane,
The Fuzztones,
Archie Shepp,
Model 500,
World's Most,
Eve St. Jones,
Whodini,
Malaria!,
Prince Buster,
Junior Murvin,
Q and Not U,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Unrelated Segments,
Crash Course in Science,
Moebius,
The Black Dice,
Scion,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.