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 the UAE and from Winnipeg.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the güiro 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 X-Ray Spex to the rock 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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sparks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Joy Division,
Saccharine Trust,
Graham Central Station,
Blancmange,
Model 500,
Crime,
R.M.O.,
Sandy B,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Cure,
John Lydon,
The Smiths,
Moby Grape,
Minny Pops,
Dawn Penn,
Boredoms,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sight & Sound,
The Gories,
The Victims,
The Five Americans,
Theoretical Girls,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Kinks,
Susan Cadogan,
U.S. Maple,
Reuben Wilson,
Malaria!,
Bob Dylan,
Talk Talk,
Charles Mingus,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jerry's Kids,
Khruangbin,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sonny Sharrock,
World's Most,
The Invisible,
Rosa Yemen,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Fortunes,
Livin' Joy,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Fall,
Mr. Review,
Bobby Sherman,
Lindisfarne,
Deepchord,
Deadbeat,
Unwound,
Todd Rundgren,
Ultra Naté,
Bush Tetras,
Jerry Gold Smith,
John Coltrane,
Derrick May,
Q65,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.