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 Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Accra.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Sound Behaviour,
Zapp,
Circle Jerks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Moby Grape,
PIL,
Bang On A Can,
Ultimate Spinach,
Metal Thangz,
Guru Guru,
Dorothy Ashby,
Slick Rick,
Technova,
Lower 48,
F. McDonald,
Marmalade,
Shoche,
Vainqueur,
Soulsonic Force,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bronski Beat,
Talk Talk,
The Gladiators,
Stiv Bators,
Black Sheep,
Susan Cadogan,
The Slits,
Radiopuhelimet,
Eric Dolphy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Grey Daturas,
Motorama,
Monks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Excepter,
Dave Gahan,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Skatalites,
Barclay James Harvest,
Boredoms,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Monolake,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Wally Richardson,
JFA,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dark Day,
Das Ding,
Robert Wyatt,
Dead Boys,
Kas Product,
Mr. Review,
Bootsy Collins,
Robert Hood,
Popol Vuh,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Electric Prunes,
a-ha,
the Association,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.