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 Chad and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Toronto.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the marimba 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 Charles Mingus to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Fat Boys,
Terry Callier,
Franke,
Yaz,
David Axelrod,
a-ha,
Thompson Twins,
Technova,
The Electric Prunes,
Deadbeat,
Clear Light,
Desert Stars,
Buzzcocks,
cv313,
Hardrive,
Bill Near,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Smoke,
Motorama,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Cowsills,
Brothers Johnson,
Bronski Beat,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cecil Taylor,
Radio Birdman,
The Skatalites,
Gastr Del Sol,
Erykah Badu,
David Bowie,
L. Decosne,
Barbara Tucker,
Delon & Dalcan,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Das Ding,
Derrick May,
Severed Heads,
Eric Copeland,
The Real Kids,
The Star Department,
Nils Olav,
The Happenings,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
the Human League,
Schoolly D,
Bobby Sherman,
Zapp,
The Grass Roots,
The Trojans,
Dennis Brown,
Shuggie Otis,
Colin Newman,
The Velvet Underground,
Nico,
Deepchord,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.