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 Mauritania and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar 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 Lou Reed to the techno 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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All Bad Manners tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Funkadelic,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Black Dice,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ultravox,
Piero Umiliani,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Walker Brothers,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
James White and The Blacks,
Derrick Morgan,
Junior Murvin,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Television Personalities,
Infiniti,
Man Eating Sloth,
Little Man,
Dead Boys,
Wolf Eyes,
Roy Ayers,
Robert Görl,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Easy Going,
Gil Scott Heron,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Con Funk Shun,
Rites of Spring,
Whodini,
Inner City,
Bluetip,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Normal,
Clear Light,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Pagans,
Alton Ellis,
Joey Negro,
Althea and Donna,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Trumans Water,
Nick Fraelich,
Zapp,
Shoche,
The Real Kids,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
World's Most,
Electric Prunes,
Supertramp,
DNA,
Nirvana,
Half Japanese,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Agitation Free,
Lalo Schifrin,
Niagra,
Gang Green,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Black Bananas,
Gong,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.