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 St Lucia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 linndrum 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 Electric Prunes to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All The Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delon & Dalcan 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Red Krayola,
The United States of America,
Con Funk Shun,
Reuben Wilson,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Mummies,
Scrapy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Smog,
Flamin' Groovies,
Vainqueur,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gichy Dan,
Cecil Taylor,
Dorothy Ashby,
R.M.O.,
Arthur Verocai,
Jeru the Damaja,
Porter Ricks,
Drexciya,
These Immortal Souls,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Kas Product,
Ponytail,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Wolf Eyes,
Wings,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Slits,
The Searchers,
Roger Hodgson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jandek,
Little Man,
Harmonia,
Thompson Twins,
The Wake,
Duran Duran,
Monks,
The Cramps,
Todd Rundgren,
Wire,
Danielle Patucci,
Trumans Water,
Alice Coltrane,
Eric Copeland,
Pulsallama,
Alton Ellis,
The Offenders,
Ken Boothe,
Eurythmics,
Bobby Womack,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rakim,
The Dave Clark Five,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Marmalade,
Kool Moe Dee,
Nils Olav,
Lee Hazlewood,
Zero Boys,
Bush Tetras,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.