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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
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 dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Parry Music,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Johnny Osbourne,
Stockholm Monsters,
Boredoms,
The Cure,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Malaria!,
Cymande,
Joey Negro,
Jawbox,
Kerrie Biddell,
Arab on Radar,
Adolescents,
The Fuzztones,
Crispy Ambulance,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Angels of Light,
Public Enemy,
The Sonics,
Deadbeat,
DNA,
Bronski Beat,
The Monochrome Set,
Leonard Cohen,
Japan,
Mad Mike,
The Velvet Underground,
Harpers Bizarre,
Anakelly,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Flamin' Groovies,
Patti Smith,
K-Klass,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Man Parrish,
Iggy Pop,
Danielle Patucci,
Rites of Spring,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Grauzone,
Gang of Four,
Peter and Kerry,
Shoche,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Barrington Levy,
Soft Machine,
8 Eyed Spy,
Thompson Twins,
Subhumans,
Fad Gadget,
Hasil Adkins,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ultravox,
Franke,
Dennis Brown,
The Blues Magoos,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Royal Trux,
the Association,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.