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 New Zealand and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Cal Tjader to the electroclash 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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Carl Craig,
MC5,
The Pop Group,
Fatback Band,
The Alarm Clocks,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Electric Prunes,
Desert Stars,
Popol Vuh,
Brand Nubian,
Isaac Hayes,
10cc,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Suicide,
Lindisfarne,
Idris Muhammad,
Soft Cell,
Nick Fraelich,
Television,
Eric B and Rakim,
Monks,
Babytalk,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The New Christs,
The Smiths,
Scientists,
The Stooges,
The Grass Roots,
Visage,
Hoover,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Minutemen,
Skaos,
Sex Pistols,
L. Decosne,
Y Pants,
The Moleskins,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Divine Comedy,
Althea and Donna,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Grey Daturas,
Easy Going,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bobby Womack,
Marine Girls,
Porter Ricks,
Siglo XX,
Erasure,
Silicon Teens,
the Bar-Kays,
Patti Smith,
Blossom Toes,
Prince Buster,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Funkadelic,
The Index,
Nico,
Derrick May,
Icehouse,
Neil Young,
The Dave Clark Five,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.