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 Costa Rica and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 James White and The Blacks to the disco 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 The Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Wyatt 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 clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül II,
Organ,
Ronnie Foster,
Theoretical Girls,
Con Funk Shun,
Mantronix,
The Fall,
Eurythmics,
Make Up,
Jawbox,
The Associates,
Jacob Miller,
The Evens,
The Wake,
Scott Walker,
Second Layer,
The Slits,
the Normal,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Divine Comedy,
Reuben Wilson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Connie Case,
Shoche,
The Last Poets,
Saccharine Trust,
Archie Shepp,
The Walker Brothers,
Sixth Finger,
Ornette Coleman,
Icehouse,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Erykah Badu,
Marshall Jefferson,
Throbbing Gristle,
Amazonics,
Idris Muhammad,
Parry Music,
Deepchord,
Lyres,
Ultra Naté,
The Count Five,
Todd Rundgren,
AZ,
The Monks,
Althea and Donna,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Malaria!,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scan 7,
Quadrant,
The Sonics,
Echospace,
Harry Pussy,
Soul II Soul,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Quantec,
Rites of Spring,
R.M.O.,
the Slits,
Basic Channel,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.