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 Luxembourg and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manchester.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Minor Threat to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Velvet Underground,
Excepter,
Gerry Rafferty,
Skriet,
Heaven 17,
David Axelrod,
The Residents,
Quantec,
Echospace,
Babytalk,
The Smoke,
UT,
Harmonia,
a-ha,
Gang Starr,
Grauzone,
New Age Steppers,
Throbbing Gristle,
New York Dolls,
Letta Mbulu,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Television,
Warren Ellis,
Harry Pussy,
The American Breed,
Yusef Lateef,
The Standells,
Spandau Ballet,
Kas Product,
Dead Boys,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Nico,
Schoolly D,
The Blackbyrds,
Slick Rick,
Charles Mingus,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Todd Terry,
John Holt,
Agent Orange,
Shoche,
Gong,
Basic Channel,
The Slits,
Qualms,
Bad Manners,
Pharoah Sanders,
Chris & Cosey,
Suicide,
The Star Department,
The Last Poets,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Monks,
Bobby Womack,
Marcia Griffiths,
Black Pus,
Sixth Finger,
the Bar-Kays,
The Busters,
cv313,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.