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 Brunei 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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sam Rivers 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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ken Boothe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ 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 rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
Maurizio,
Sun City Girls,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Tomorrow,
These Immortal Souls,
Anthony Braxton,
the Swans,
The Mojo Men,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Mummies,
Fear,
Trumans Water,
Young Marble Giants,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Subhumans,
Stockholm Monsters,
Godley & Creme,
The Blues Magoos,
X-Ray Spex,
The Motions,
Audionom,
The Sonics,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Desert Stars,
The Zeros,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lakeside,
Cluster,
Cymande,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
New Order,
Derrick Morgan,
Donny Hathaway,
Stiv Bators,
John Foxx,
Drive Like Jehu,
Grandmaster Flash,
Max Romeo,
Big Daddy Kane,
Robert Wyatt,
Byron Stingily,
Easy Going,
The Standells,
Tom Boy,
Depeche Mode,
The Blackbyrds,
Man Parrish,
Minnie Riperton,
Sonny Sharrock,
Minny Pops,
Scott Walker,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Anakelly,
The Barracudas,
Theoretical Girls,
Rod Modell,
Kaleidoscope,
Das Ding,
Joe Finger,
Youth Brigade,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.