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 Pakistan and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Young Marble Giants to the funk 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 Isaac Hayes. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
Siglo XX,
The Beau Brummels,
Barclay James Harvest,
Aswad,
Fela Kuti,
The New Christs,
The Fuzztones,
One Last Wish,
Dual Sessions,
E-Dancer,
Idris Muhammad,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Arcadia,
Simply Red,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Danielle Patucci,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sun City Girls,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Easy Going,
Unwound,
Swell Maps,
Television Personalities,
Das Ding,
Organ,
Mark Hollis,
Marcia Griffiths,
Grey Daturas,
Sandy B,
Severed Heads,
The Grass Roots,
Con Funk Shun,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Grauzone,
The Five Americans,
The Martian,
The Index,
Tomorrow,
Parry Music,
The Mummies,
Crime,
The Doobie Brothers,
Supertramp,
Thompson Twins,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Radio Birdman,
Little Man,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ponytail,
Malaria!,
Alton Ellis,
The Gladiators,
Patti Smith,
Quantec,
Jandek,
Quadrant,
K-Klass,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.