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 Chile and from Woodstock.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 synthesizer 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the electroclash 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 The Mummies. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Angry Samoans,
Jimmy McGriff,
Moby Grape,
Black Bananas,
Public Enemy,
Flipper,
Amon Düül II,
Deadbeat,
Thompson Twins,
Faraquet,
Yaz,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Babytalk,
Dawn Penn,
Judy Mowatt,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Johnny Clarke,
Lou Reed,
Half Japanese,
Soul II Soul,
Alice Coltrane,
Althea and Donna,
Mr. Review,
Cecil Taylor,
Hardrive,
The Birthday Party,
Nils Olav,
The Human League,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Robert Hood,
Sight & Sound,
The Young Rascals,
Neu!,
In Retrospect,
the Germs,
Liliput,
Peter & Gordon,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Juan Atkins,
The Golliwogs,
Sound Behaviour,
The Saints,
Television Personalities,
Fela Kuti,
Jeff Lynne,
Guru Guru,
Faust,
Josef K,
Patti Smith,
Country Teasers,
The Monks,
DJ Style,
Scratch Acid,
Todd Terry,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Don Cherry,
Niagra,
Parry Music,
Erykah Badu,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.