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 San Marino and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 sitar 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 Faraquet to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
Boredoms,
the Association,
The Gun Club,
Ohio Players,
Delta 5,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sound Behaviour,
The Skatalites,
Buzzcocks,
Country Teasers,
The Sonics,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Grandmaster Flash,
CMW,
Fifty Foot Hose,
U.S. Maple,
Japan,
Organ,
Lucky Dragons,
Gichy Dan,
Youth Brigade,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Germs,
Warren Ellis,
Chris Corsano,
Amon Düül II,
Donny Hathaway,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Joy Division,
Aaron Thompson,
Dave Gahan,
Gerry Rafferty,
Royal Trux,
The Techniques,
Alton Ellis,
Brand Nubian,
Underground Resistance,
Blake Baxter,
Ronnie Foster,
Pantaleimon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Hashim,
Slick Rick,
Lungfish,
Frankie Knuckles,
Archie Shepp,
X-Ray Spex,
H. Thieme,
Bauhaus,
R.M.O.,
Joey Negro,
Warsaw,
Fela Kuti,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Stereo Dub,
Unwound,
the Slits,
Lou Reed,
Soul II Soul,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.