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 Finland and from Salvador.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ 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 Lalann to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Average White Band,
The Shadows of Knight,
New York Dolls,
Panda Bear,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ultra Naté,
Johnny Osbourne,
Metal Thangz,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Charles Mingus,
Gang Starr,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sex Pistols,
Scott Walker,
Gabor Szabo,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Inner City,
Easy Going,
Goldenarms,
Eve St. Jones,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Sonics,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sixth Finger,
Black Moon,
Bluetip,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Jawbox,
Wire,
Young Marble Giants,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bobby Womack,
Henry Cow,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Drexciya,
Q65,
World's Most,
Procol Harum,
Von Mondo,
Radio Birdman,
Man Parrish,
Kaleidoscope,
Harry Pussy,
The Fire Engines,
Slave,
Oneida,
Crispian St. Peters,
Al Stewart,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Alarm Clocks,
Stiv Bators,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Eden Ahbez,
the Soft Cell,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Durutti Column,
Niagra,
Simply Red,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Flamin' Groovies,
Colin Newman,
Ronnie Foster,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.