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 Kazakhstan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lagos.
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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Althea and Donna to the grunge 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 Bauhaus. All the underground hits.
All Fluxion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick 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?
Electric Prunes,
New Age Steppers,
the Normal,
Tomorrow,
Sparks,
Fela Kuti,
Quadrant,
Ituana,
Surgeon,
Black Bananas,
Pagans,
Intrusion,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kas Product,
The Buckinghams,
Nik Kershaw,
Brothers Johnson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Happenings,
The Beau Brummels,
Motorama,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Desert Stars,
Ice-T,
Eric B and Rakim,
June Days,
The Move,
Zero Boys,
The Mummies,
Davy DMX,
Bootsy Collins,
Tears for Fears,
Graham Central Station,
Second Layer,
The Stooges,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sister Nancy,
Maurizio,
Black Pus,
Minny Pops,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ken Boothe,
Kaleidoscope,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Los Fastidios,
Freddie Wadling,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ohio Players,
The Moody Blues,
Scan 7,
Albert Ayler,
Altered Images,
The Doobie Brothers,
Robert Wyatt,
Pole,
Subhumans,
Brass Construction,
Traffic Nightmare,
Spandau Ballet,
Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith.
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.