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 Australia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manchester.
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 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 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 Intrusion to the rap 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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Slits,
Bluetip,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Vainqueur,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Soft Cell,
Saccharine Trust,
E-Dancer,
Bill Near,
Jerry's Kids,
Depeche Mode,
The Evens,
the Normal,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Vogues,
Sun Ra,
New Order,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Tres Demented,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Fela Kuti,
The Walker Brothers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Frankie Knuckles,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Slick Rick,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Skatalites,
Liliput,
Archie Shepp,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Excepter,
Khruangbin,
The Young Rascals,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ken Boothe,
Danielle Patucci,
Magazine,
Suburban Knight,
the Human League,
Boz Scaggs,
Matthew Halsall,
John Holt,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rosa Yemen,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Moody Blues,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Neil Young,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Associates,
David Bowie,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Susan Cadogan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Hashim,
kango's stein massive,
the Germs,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.