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 Seychelles and from Milan.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 guitar 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 Lebanon Hanover to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Darondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Piero Umiliani,
Urselle,
Swell Maps,
Ludus,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Faust,
Quantec,
Eric B and Rakim,
Robert Görl,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Crooked Eye,
Scott Walker,
The Mojo Men,
ABBA,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Deakin,
X-101,
Flamin' Groovies,
Procol Harum,
Radiohead,
Tears for Fears,
Magma,
The Birthday Party,
Yazoo,
Subhumans,
The Fugs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
B.T. Express,
Metal Thangz,
James White and The Blacks,
Lindisfarne,
T. Rex,
The Count Five,
The Moody Blues,
Rhythm & Sound,
Outsiders,
Roxette,
Dawn Penn,
Lucky Dragons,
Morten Harket,
The Cowsills,
Gong,
The Monks,
The Mummies,
Loose Ends,
Symarip,
Matthew Halsall,
Anakelly,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Davy DMX,
The Seeds,
Little Man,
Reagan Youth,
Janne Schatter,
Fela Kuti,
Brothers Johnson,
Ornette Coleman,
Lou Christie,
The Stooges,
Joe Finger,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.