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 Romania and from Glasgow.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Todd Rundgren to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Toasters. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
The Doors,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Jimmy McGriff,
Interpol,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Talk Talk,
Bobby Byrd,
Rites of Spring,
Oblivians,
Minny Pops,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Dual Sessions,
Frankie Knuckles,
F. McDonald,
Metal Thangz,
Amazonics,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sexual Harrassment,
Section 25,
Jeff Mills,
Au Pairs,
Lyres,
Mantronix,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pussy Galore,
Unwound,
Deakin,
Joensuu 1685,
Gabor Szabo,
Flash Fearless,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Soft Machine,
Steve Hackett,
Public Enemy,
Wally Richardson,
Alice Coltrane,
Wolf Eyes,
Harmonia,
48th St. Collective,
Dark Day,
Silicon Teens,
New Age Steppers,
John Lydon,
Bad Manners,
Rapeman,
Mars,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ultra Naté,
Matthew Halsall,
Mad Mike,
The Divine Comedy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Vladislav Delay,
Pulsallama,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Japan,
The Red Krayola,
Simply Red,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.