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 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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Motions. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Supertramp,
Smog,
Grauzone,
Faraquet,
Pussy Galore,
Laurel Aitken,
Yusef Lateef,
Harry Pussy,
Royal Trux,
Echospace,
Gong,
Bang On A Can,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rapeman,
John Lydon,
Pylon,
F. McDonald,
Japan,
The Cowsills,
B.T. Express,
Pharoah Sanders,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pulsallama,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Arab on Radar,
New York Dolls,
Duran Duran,
New Order,
Motorama,
Sixth Finger,
Siglo XX,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dark Day,
Kaleidoscope,
Parry Music,
The Victims,
Delta 5,
Bronski Beat,
The Buckinghams,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Slackers,
The Fall,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Sonics,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
R.M.O.,
Yaz,
Lou Christie,
Whodini,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Monochrome Set,
Crash Course in Science,
Second Layer,
Lebanon Hanover,
Das Ding,
The Smiths,
Neil Young,
Janne Schatter,
The Stooges,
LL Cool J,
Porter Ricks,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.