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 Vietnam 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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Darondo to the funk 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 Skarface. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Accadde A,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Eve St. Jones,
H. Thieme,
Mandrill,
Fear,
Terry Callier,
The Vogues,
David McCallum,
Kayak,
Bush Tetras,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nils Olav,
Swans,
Drive Like Jehu,
Moby Grape,
Monolake,
Suicide,
The Music Machine,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kas Product,
Index,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Funkadelic,
The Fire Engines,
Camouflage,
Marine Girls,
Shuggie Otis,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nirvana,
The Doobie Brothers,
Alphaville,
Davy DMX,
The Beau Brummels,
Reagan Youth,
New York Dolls,
The Seeds,
Von Mondo,
Joe Finger,
Bill Near,
Trumans Water,
Pantytec,
Depeche Mode,
Bobby Sherman,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Anthony Braxton,
Isaac Hayes,
Young Marble Giants,
Crispian St. Peters,
Erykah Badu,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
L. Decosne,
Godley & Creme,
Donald Byrd,
Unwound,
Howard Jones,
Ultra Naté,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.