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 Micronesia and from Edmonton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 spring reverb 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 the Human League to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Raincoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Derrick May,
Cluster,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Dorothy Ashby,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Robert Görl,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Howard Jones,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Robert Wyatt,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lucky Dragons,
Don Cherry,
Donald Byrd,
Connie Case,
Marc Almond,
E-Dancer,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Qualms,
Kerri Chandler,
The Move,
Black Sheep,
Ornette Coleman,
Guru Guru,
Nirvana,
Whodini,
Soulsonic Force,
Erykah Badu,
The Martian,
Gang Green,
Fad Gadget,
The Birthday Party,
Wings,
Grandmaster Flash,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Aaron Thompson,
Nils Olav,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Johnny Osbourne,
PIL,
U.S. Maple,
Radiopuhelimet,
Agitation Free,
Black Flag,
The Litter,
Susan Cadogan,
The Doors,
The New Christs,
Schoolly D,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pole,
Crime,
Rekid,
CMW,
Deadbeat,
The Red Krayola,
Inner City,
The Mummies,
Fifty Foot Hose,
a-ha,
Monolake,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.