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 Azerbaijan and from Woodstock.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Robert Hood to the jazz 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
The Evens,
Rotary Connection,
The Pretty Things,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Joe Finger,
Wally Richardson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Beau Brummels,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sonic Youth,
David Axelrod,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Can,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lyres,
Crime,
Pantytec,
Suburban Knight,
The Fuzztones,
Tears for Fears,
Gong,
Lucky Dragons,
Little Man,
Curtis Mayfield,
La Düsseldorf,
the Swans,
Ituana,
Kenny Larkin,
Gichy Dan,
Toni Rubio,
The Black Dice,
Maleditus Sound,
Dual Sessions,
Colin Newman,
Au Pairs,
The United States of America,
Pylon,
Sound Behaviour,
Rapeman,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
T.S.O.L.,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gang Green,
Leonard Cohen,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nick Fraelich,
Girls At Our Best!,
Hashim,
Scion,
UT,
The Count Five,
T. Rex,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Albert Ayler,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Pop Group,
The Associates,
Lindisfarne,
D'Angelo,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.