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 Slovakia and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Gang Green to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lucky Dragons,
Echospace,
China Crisis,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Names,
Country Teasers,
Jerry's Kids,
David Bowie,
Porter Ricks,
MDC,
Barclay James Harvest,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Monolake,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
T. Rex,
Alison Limerick,
Yellowson,
Colin Newman,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Traffic Nightmare,
Crispy Ambulance,
Second Layer,
The Evens,
Gabor Szabo,
Faraquet,
Sex Pistols,
The Happenings,
Eddi Front,
Negative Approach,
Tommy Roe,
Bizarre Inc.,
Cecil Taylor,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Pretty Things,
Nirvana,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bob Dylan,
DNA,
Nick Fraelich,
Pet Shop Boys,
Deadbeat,
Qualms,
Sandy B,
Donald Byrd,
Michelle Simonal,
Gerry Rafferty,
Juan Atkins,
Reuben Wilson,
Drexciya,
Warsaw,
Roxy Music,
Barbara Tucker,
Neu!,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gichy Dan,
Animal Collective,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.