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 Czech Republic and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Knickerbockers to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Japan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Oblivians,
Electric Prunes,
John Lydon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sex Pistols,
The Skatalites,
The Standells,
Popol Vuh,
Bauhaus,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Royal Trux,
John Coltrane,
Sly & The Family Stone,
MC5,
Sixth Finger,
Panda Bear,
Organ,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rapeman,
Minor Threat,
Bizarre Inc.,
Underground Resistance,
The Pretty Things,
Gong,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Franke,
Hot Snakes,
The Kinks,
Goldenarms,
Dorothy Ashby,
World's Most,
Can,
Leonard Cohen,
Man Eating Sloth,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Gladiators,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lalo Schifrin,
Robert Hood,
Aural Exciters,
Morten Harket,
Boz Scaggs,
Grey Daturas,
China Crisis,
Neil Young,
Unwound,
Adolescents,
Ralphi Rosario,
Joe Finger,
Blake Baxter,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Arthur Verocai,
Tom Boy,
Sonic Youth,
Donald Byrd,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bob Dylan,
The J.B.'s,
Saccharine Trust,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.