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 Montenegro and from Bologna.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Barrington Levy to the funk 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 Sound. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unrelated Segments record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heavy D & The Boyz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Hot Snakes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Slits,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Matthew Halsall,
Tomorrow,
Soft Machine,
Barry Ungar,
The Gun Club,
The Modern Lovers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rapeman,
Nick Fraelich,
Oblivians,
Shoche,
Eddi Front,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Dirtbombs,
The Zeros,
Sam Rivers,
Khruangbin,
Loose Ends,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lalann,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sugar Minott,
China Crisis,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Index,
Patti Smith,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Gerry Rafferty,
Marvin Gaye,
The Star Department,
Amon Düül II,
Colin Newman,
Brass Construction,
JFA,
Blossom Toes,
The Shadows of Knight,
David Axelrod,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
David McCallum,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Cramps,
The Velvet Underground,
Cluster,
Joensuu 1685,
the Bar-Kays,
Bobby Womack,
the Normal,
Goldenarms,
Todd Terry,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.