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 Philippines and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Jeff Lynne to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Bobby Byrd,
Desert Stars,
Fugazi,
The Sonics,
The Seeds,
Agent Orange,
Sugar Minott,
Junior Murvin,
Joe Finger,
Pylon,
Lucky Dragons,
Tim Buckley,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Sheep,
Crooked Eye,
Talk Talk,
Sun Ra,
Joyce Sims,
Maleditus Sound,
The Shadows of Knight,
Deakin,
Vladislav Delay,
Man Parrish,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Red Krayola,
Icehouse,
Infiniti,
Bad Manners,
Man Eating Sloth,
Monks,
Loose Ends,
Kaleidoscope,
Hasil Adkins,
The Mummies,
Chrome,
Johnny Clarke,
Los Fastidios,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Brick,
Camouflage,
The Kinks,
Pantaleimon,
kango's stein massive,
Pagans,
Underground Resistance,
Groovy Waters,
DJ Style,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Mars,
Bush Tetras,
Porter Ricks,
Graham Central Station,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
ABBA,
Fat Boys,
Supertramp,
The Buckinghams,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.