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 Togo and from New York.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 World's Most to the grunge 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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flipper 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 guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Sandy B,
The Mojo Men,
The Music Machine,
Rod Modell,
Motorama,
Yazoo,
Crooked Eye,
The Tremeloes,
Technova,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gang of Four,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bill Near,
The Blackbyrds,
The Red Krayola,
Pagans,
Massinfluence,
Rufus Thomas,
The Durutti Column,
Darondo,
Patti Smith,
Fela Kuti,
Sound Behaviour,
The Neon Judgement,
Masters at Work,
Rhythm & Sound,
Hardrive,
Yaz,
Cheater Slicks,
the Association,
Isaac Hayes,
Black Pus,
Mad Mike,
Ten City,
The Smiths,
June of 44,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sex Pistols,
Faust,
Marine Girls,
Leonard Cohen,
Dawn Penn,
June Days,
Subhumans,
The Moody Blues,
These Immortal Souls,
Livin' Joy,
Brothers Johnson,
Flamin' Groovies,
Spandau Ballet,
Marc Almond,
Television,
Lee Hazlewood,
Crispian St. Peters,
Panda Bear,
John Cale,
Black Sheep,
Oblivians,
Man Parrish,
The Standells,
Nick Fraelich,
Marvin Gaye,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.