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 Czech Republic and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Paris.
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 snare 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 Scientists to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Vainqueur. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
Blossom Toes,
John Coltrane,
Arab on Radar,
The Searchers,
The Skatalites,
Agitation Free,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gang Green,
8 Eyed Spy,
Barry Ungar,
Little Man,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Star Department,
Technova,
Susan Cadogan,
The Monks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Flesh Eaters,
Theoretical Girls,
Nik Kershaw,
Mark Hollis,
H. Thieme,
Rakim,
Terry Callier,
Anakelly,
Todd Rundgren,
Fear,
In Retrospect,
Pylon,
The Fugs,
Arcadia,
Magma,
Malaria!,
The Offenders,
The Cure,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ten City,
Skaos,
Vladislav Delay,
Wire,
Pet Shop Boys,
Faraquet,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Stereo Dub,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Neil Young,
Roger Hodgson,
The Dead C,
This Heat,
Pere Ubu,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Moebius,
Smog,
Zero Boys,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Toasters,
Davy DMX,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.