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 Lebanon and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Aswad to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
London Community Gospel Choir,
James White and The Blacks,
The Velvet Underground,
The Sound,
John Holt,
Groovy Waters,
Cybotron,
The Young Rascals,
Desert Stars,
The Birthday Party,
Eddi Front,
Kurtis Blow,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Jeff Lynne,
F. McDonald,
The Grass Roots,
Joe Smooth,
Magma,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Los Fastidios,
The Cure,
Deakin,
Shoche,
D'Angelo,
Shuggie Otis,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Little Man,
Kayak,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Donny Hathaway,
Royal Trux,
Terry Callier,
Sun Ra,
Hoover,
Colin Newman,
Duran Duran,
The United States of America,
Gabor Szabo,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Dead Boys,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Adolescents,
Black Bananas,
Animal Collective,
Section 25,
Interpol,
Main Source,
The Human League,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Khruangbin,
Chris Corsano,
Qualms,
Ken Boothe,
Tubeway Army,
Barry Ungar,
The Music Machine,
Thee Headcoats,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.