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 China and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mexico City.
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 harpsichord 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 Byron Stingily to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Subhumans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Joey Negro,
Boredoms,
Japan,
E-Dancer,
Jerry's Kids,
Wolf Eyes,
Crash Course in Science,
Harmonia,
Desert Stars,
Royal Trux,
Essential Logic,
PIL,
Lungfish,
Circle Jerks,
Pagans,
Tommy Roe,
Skaos,
The Remains,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ponytail,
The Victims,
Stereo Dub,
Cymande,
The Knickerbockers,
Henry Cow,
Talk Talk,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Hoover,
Nirvana,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The United States of America,
Sandy B,
Slave,
Parry Music,
Letta Mbulu,
Max Romeo,
Banda Bassotti,
Ten City,
The Doors,
Con Funk Shun,
Los Fastidios,
L. Decosne,
Intrusion,
Reuben Wilson,
Khruangbin,
Bizarre Inc.,
Drexciya,
kango's stein massive,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Deakin,
Mr. Review,
The Happenings,
Jeff Mills,
Toni Rubio,
Gichy Dan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Gladiators,
Matthew Bourne,
Sparks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Robert Hood,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.