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 Mauritania and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 David Bowie 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 Henry Cow to the electroclash 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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Procol Harum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pulsallama,
Motorama,
Bill Wells,
Jeff Lynne,
Robert Görl,
The American Breed,
The Invisible,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Alton Ellis,
The United States of America,
Agent Orange,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
10cc,
The Mojo Men,
The Young Rascals,
Fear,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Swell Maps,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sam Rivers,
Circle Jerks,
the Soft Cell,
The Smoke,
Intrusion,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Fugs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Germs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Duran Duran,
Symarip,
Reuben Wilson,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Judy Mowatt,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Boz Scaggs,
Black Sheep,
Malaria!,
Nation of Ulysses,
a-ha,
Amon Düül,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Velvet Underground,
Junior Murvin,
Barclay James Harvest,
Simply Red,
Mr. Review,
The Residents,
The Cure,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Derrick Morgan,
Hasil Adkins,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bobby Sherman,
Altered Images,
Chris Corsano,
The Monks,
Neu!,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.