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 Korea South and from Glasgow.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Tim Buckley to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Faust. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Fatback Band,
Cheater Slicks,
Trumans Water,
Graham Central Station,
Nils Olav,
Albert Ayler,
The Walker Brothers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Cowsills,
The Names,
Black Moon,
Public Enemy,
Gang of Four,
Derrick May,
Fluxion,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sparks,
Model 500,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Buckinghams,
Section 25,
Aloha Tigers,
Swell Maps,
Guru Guru,
Gong,
Judy Mowatt,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Khruangbin,
OOIOO,
Moebius,
Thompson Twins,
Joe Finger,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Eddi Front,
Boogie Down Productions,
K-Klass,
World's Most,
The Offenders,
Quando Quango,
Lakeside,
Peter & Gordon,
Brand Nubian,
Fat Boys,
Interpol,
Organ,
Maurizio,
Niagra,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Camouflage,
Lower 48,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mo-Dettes,
Gregory Isaacs,
Barrington Levy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jandek,
Television,
Lalann,
Eric Copeland,
Pierre Henry,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.