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 Romania and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 spring reverb 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 Funkadelic to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Max Romeo 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Selecter,
Gabor Szabo,
Johnny Clarke,
Robert Wyatt,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ultra Naté,
The Durutti Column,
Althea and Donna,
Flash Fearless,
The Buckinghams,
Marcia Griffiths,
Negative Approach,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Martian,
The Evens,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bob Dylan,
Lucky Dragons,
Hot Snakes,
Kerrie Biddell,
Eve St. Jones,
Second Layer,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Neu!,
Suburban Knight,
Grauzone,
the Normal,
Vainqueur,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Smoke,
Underground Resistance,
Big Daddy Kane,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Tremeloes,
Masters at Work,
The Red Krayola,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Matthew Bourne,
FM Einheit,
Joe Finger,
Japan,
Colin Newman,
Soft Machine,
kango's stein massive,
Accadde A,
Sandy B,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Make Up,
Drive Like Jehu,
Harmonia,
Loose Ends,
Boredoms,
Rufus Thomas,
Sexual Harrassment,
Dawn Penn,
Warsaw,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot.
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.