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 Nepal and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Tim Buckley to the rock 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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
Peter and Kerry,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sister Nancy,
Youth Brigade,
Avey Tare,
Juan Atkins,
Gastr Del Sol,
This Heat,
FM Einheit,
Chris Corsano,
Terry Callier,
Kaleidoscope,
KRS-One,
The Divine Comedy,
Crash Course in Science,
Slave,
Gregory Isaacs,
Derrick May,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sällskapet,
The Vogues,
Lower 48,
Unwound,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Dennis Brown,
Nick Fraelich,
the Sonics,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jeru the Damaja,
Althea and Donna,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Red Krayola,
Interpol,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Freddie Wadling,
Darondo,
Silicon Teens,
Howard Jones,
Bauhaus,
The United States of America,
Donny Hathaway,
Eric Copeland,
H. Thieme,
Angry Samoans,
Second Layer,
Man Parrish,
Roxy Music,
Warren Ellis,
The Pop Group,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Qualms,
June of 44,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Toasters,
Arthur Verocai,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mantronix,
Ronnie Foster,
T. Rex,
Alison Limerick,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.