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 Niger and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
Joyce Sims,
Radio Birdman,
Easy Going,
Supertramp,
Slave,
the Association,
Letta Mbulu,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gang Starr,
Trumans Water,
Grey Daturas,
Gong,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tim Buckley,
Harpers Bizarre,
Main Source,
The New Christs,
Banda Bassotti,
Byron Stingily,
Angry Samoans,
Bronski Beat,
Sonic Youth,
Television,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Funkadelic,
Terrestrial Tones,
kango's stein massive,
Deakin,
48th St. Collective,
The Black Dice,
Suburban Knight,
The Velvet Underground,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Loose Ends,
Joe Finger,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Henry Cow,
Wasted Youth,
Quando Quango,
Drexciya,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gang Green,
Camberwell Now,
The Young Rascals,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Anakelly,
Pulsallama,
Flipper,
Zapp,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Residents,
B.T. Express,
The Golliwogs,
the Human League,
The Star Department,
Blake Baxter,
The Human League,
June Days,
Flamin' Groovies,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.