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 Guinea-Bissau and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 Salvador and Manila.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Connie Case. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aaron Thompson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Nick Fraelich,
Cybotron,
Mad Mike,
ABC,
The Detroit Cobras,
Alphaville,
Judy Mowatt,
Bluetip,
the Bar-Kays,
New York Dolls,
Rhythm & Sound,
Chrome,
Jimmy McGriff,
Robert Wyatt,
Fatback Band,
Bad Manners,
Crash Course in Science,
Qualms,
Brothers Johnson,
The Flesh Eaters,
Newcleus,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Von Mondo,
John Coltrane,
Agitation Free,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Names,
The Grass Roots,
Eric B and Rakim,
Hasil Adkins,
Freddie Wadling,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Modern Lovers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nico,
Curtis Mayfield,
Das Ding,
Adolescents,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ronnie Foster,
Crispy Ambulance,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Inner City,
Thee Headcoats,
Sonic Youth,
Wings,
Harry Pussy,
Maurizio,
Neu!,
The Litter,
Talk Talk,
The Angels of Light,
Todd Terry,
Half Japanese,
Jerry's Kids,
Josef K,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Red Krayola,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.