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 Bhutan and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Robert Hood to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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?
Suburban Knight,
Grey Daturas,
The Beau Brummels,
Kool Moe Dee,
Qualms,
Basic Channel,
Ronan,
The Selecter,
Man Parrish,
Glenn Branca,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Tim Buckley,
Eric Dolphy,
The Mummies,
Minnie Riperton,
Skriet,
UT,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ronnie Foster,
Joey Negro,
Nik Kershaw,
Fat Boys,
Barrington Levy,
James White and The Blacks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Barry Ungar,
Michelle Simonal,
Tom Boy,
Iggy Pop,
Fad Gadget,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Fall,
Janne Schatter,
Derrick May,
Joe Finger,
Q and Not U,
The Real Kids,
Public Image Ltd.,
Dorothy Ashby,
Arcadia,
Gong,
Lou Christie,
Darondo,
Black Moon,
Pere Ubu,
Rites of Spring,
Maleditus Sound,
China Crisis,
Sonny Sharrock,
Henry Cow,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lindisfarne,
Tres Demented,
Shoche,
Terry Callier,
The Standells,
Dave Gahan,
The Sound,
The Monochrome Set,
Eric Copeland,
Rakim,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.