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 East Timor and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Copenhagen.
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 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 Roxette to the techno 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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Blake Baxter,
Stockholm Monsters,
Can,
Inner City,
June Days,
Agitation Free,
Camouflage,
Schoolly D,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Quando Quango,
Gang Starr,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bobby Womack,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Monolake,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Joey Negro,
Echospace,
Marvin Gaye,
The Birthday Party,
Aloha Tigers,
Sonic Youth,
Dark Day,
The Litter,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Nirvana,
The Raincoats,
Bill Wells,
The Techniques,
Cheater Slicks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Oblivians,
Al Stewart,
The Gun Club,
Glenn Branca,
Sex Pistols,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bluetip,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Germs,
The Cramps,
Terry Callier,
Jacob Miller,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Barry Ungar,
the Human League,
Eric Dolphy,
Thee Headcoats,
LL Cool J,
Faust,
Mad Mike,
The Standells,
The Monks,
Jacques Brel,
Shoche,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rapeman,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.