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 Stockholm.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Portland.
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 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 The Flesh Eaters to the rock 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 Cymande. All the underground hits.
All Peter & Gordon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Franke,
The Last Poets,
Traffic Nightmare,
Thompson Twins,
John Holt,
Oneida,
ABC,
Panda Bear,
LL Cool J,
The Fugs,
DJ Sneak,
The Residents,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sound Behaviour,
the Association,
Talk Talk,
Marshall Jefferson,
Wire,
Dawn Penn,
Bauhaus,
The Durutti Column,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Mad Mike,
These Immortal Souls,
Tommy Roe,
La Düsseldorf,
Boz Scaggs,
The Red Krayola,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Moon,
Peter & Gordon,
Bobby Byrd,
Oblivians,
Radio Birdman,
Fad Gadget,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Electric Prunes,
Iggy Pop,
D'Angelo,
U.S. Maple,
Howard Jones,
The Black Dice,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kerri Chandler,
Slave,
The Tremeloes,
X-101,
K-Klass,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Selecter,
James White and The Blacks,
Lucky Dragons,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Marcia Griffiths,
Don Cherry,
Thee Headcoats,
Matthew Halsall,
Jesper Dahlback,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.