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 Sudan 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the sitar 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 New Age Steppers to the disco 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Erasure,
Monks,
Max Romeo,
Scion,
Barry Ungar,
The Move,
Ken Boothe,
The Smiths,
Cheater Slicks,
Quantec,
Faraquet,
Livin' Joy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Harpers Bizarre,
Letta Mbulu,
Little Man,
Davy DMX,
Dennis Brown,
David Bowie,
Rufus Thomas,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ituana,
The Detroit Cobras,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sister Nancy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Donny Hathaway,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Wasted Youth,
Rekid,
Magazine,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Moody Blues,
Alton Ellis,
Junior Murvin,
Nation of Ulysses,
Mark Hollis,
The American Breed,
Vainqueur,
Wally Richardson,
Kayak,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Soul II Soul,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Neon Judgement,
John Holt,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bauhaus,
Bob Dylan,
Mo-Dettes,
Wolf Eyes,
Frankie Knuckles,
Albert Ayler,
Saccharine Trust,
K-Klass,
Marc Almond,
Clear Light,
Tubeway Army,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.