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 Comoros and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Edmonton.
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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Letta Mbulu to the dance 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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes 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 Flag,
Connie Case,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jacques Brel,
Tommy Roe,
The Gories,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rakim,
Camberwell Now,
Wally Richardson,
Bobby Womack,
Freddie Wadling,
Buzzcocks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Matthew Halsall,
Brand Nubian,
Sun City Girls,
The American Breed,
Grauzone,
Faust,
The Evens,
Todd Terry,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gang Green,
David Axelrod,
Drexciya,
Joe Smooth,
Bauhaus,
Barbara Tucker,
Das Ding,
Moby Grape,
the Sonics,
Juan Atkins,
The Sound,
the Human League,
Second Layer,
Marshall Jefferson,
Von Mondo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Minutemen,
UT,
Accadde A,
Jerry's Kids,
LL Cool J,
Excepter,
Technova,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Joyce Sims,
Matthew Bourne,
Marine Girls,
Pantaleimon,
Roxy Music,
The Searchers,
Soft Machine,
Frankie Knuckles,
Swans,
Ultravox,
Spandau Ballet,
Fluxion,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.