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 Philippines and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the güiro 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 Nick Fraelich to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Chrome,
Alton Ellis,
Rapeman,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Massinfluence,
The Smiths,
The Slackers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Yellowson,
Country Teasers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sällskapet,
Roxette,
Technova,
Pole,
John Lydon,
The Saints,
Sexual Harrassment,
Chris Corsano,
L. Decosne,
Unwound,
Crime,
Fad Gadget,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Glenn Branca,
The Happenings,
Man Eating Sloth,
Soft Cell,
Ultra Naté,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Amazonics,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Monks,
ABC,
World's Most,
John Coltrane,
Reuben Wilson,
Erykah Badu,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eric Dolphy,
Alphaville,
Franke,
Erasure,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Clear Light,
Thee Headcoats,
Kayak,
The Cure,
The Leaves,
Sight & Sound,
Drive Like Jehu,
Popol Vuh,
Radiohead,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Blossom Toes,
The Knickerbockers,
Harmonia,
Bobby Womack,
China Crisis,
Livin' Joy,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.