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 Tanzania and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Yaz to the dance 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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Magazine,
Marcia Griffiths,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gerry Rafferty,
Desert Stars,
Aloha Tigers,
Freddie Wadling,
Dark Day,
Lalo Schifrin,
Animal Collective,
Los Fastidios,
Rufus Thomas,
Kayak,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ronnie Foster,
The Martian,
Lightning Bolt,
Drive Like Jehu,
Aswad,
Inner City,
Scott Walker,
Absolute Body Control,
Prince Buster,
Sister Nancy,
Alphaville,
Black Moon,
Loose Ends,
Panda Bear,
Sonny Sharrock,
David Axelrod,
T. Rex,
Scratch Acid,
Todd Terry,
Von Mondo,
Gong,
Letta Mbulu,
Bobby Womack,
Reagan Youth,
Accadde A,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Derrick Morgan,
Howard Jones,
The Fall,
Robert Wyatt,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Nik Kershaw,
Eddi Front,
The Vogues,
Johnny Osbourne,
Dead Boys,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kevin Saunderson,
In Retrospect,
Parry Music,
The Fortunes,
Groovy Waters,
Amon Düül,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
48th St. Collective,
Drexciya,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.