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 Woodstock.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and London.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Black Pus to the crunk 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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Girls At Our Best!,
Matthew Halsall,
Roy Ayers,
Agitation Free,
Wolf Eyes,
Sight & Sound,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fat Boys,
Isaac Hayes,
The Blues Magoos,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Stiv Bators,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mr. Review,
Scion,
The Seeds,
Vladislav Delay,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nils Olav,
Oblivians,
Thee Headcoats,
The Associates,
Monks,
Sarah Menescal,
Mad Mike,
Freddie Wadling,
Robert Wyatt,
Frankie Knuckles,
Franke,
Altered Images,
The Velvet Underground,
Tommy Roe,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
KRS-One,
Bush Tetras,
The Smoke,
Marine Girls,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bluetip,
Youth Brigade,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Misunderstood,
Rites of Spring,
Black Bananas,
Procol Harum,
Bootsy Collins,
Fugazi,
Japan,
Pole,
MDC,
Delon & Dalcan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Golliwogs,
Tomorrow,
John Cale,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Neon Judgement,
Basic Channel,
Skaos,
Arab on Radar,
Radio Birdman,
Susan Cadogan,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.