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 Oman and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 Shanghai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Kool Moe Dee to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Au Pairs,
Stetsasonic,
Cecil Taylor,
a-ha,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Mojo Men,
Isaac Hayes,
Technova,
Adolescents,
Roxy Music,
Siglo XX,
Hashim,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Blues Magoos,
The Gladiators,
Grey Daturas,
L. Decosne,
Cymande,
Mars,
Warsaw,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Popol Vuh,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bobbi Humphrey,
New Age Steppers,
UT,
Scan 7,
Maurizio,
The Searchers,
Pussy Galore,
Tears for Fears,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Prince Buster,
Jawbox,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lucky Dragons,
Grandmaster Flash,
Man Parrish,
Agent Orange,
Harpers Bizarre,
Vainqueur,
Rakim,
Babytalk,
Howard Jones,
Archie Shepp,
Jimmy McGriff,
Slick Rick,
Section 25,
Yaz,
Nik Kershaw,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jeff Lynne,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Monks,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.