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 Liberia and from Tehran.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock 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 güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boogie Down Productions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
E-Dancer,
the Fania All-Stars,
Quantec,
The Standells,
The Neon Judgement,
Brick,
The Dirtbombs,
Slick Rick,
The Skatalites,
The Star Department,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Last Poets,
Pulsallama,
Qualms,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Dave Clark Five,
Peter & Gordon,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pierre Henry,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Moby Grape,
The Golliwogs,
Outsiders,
Television,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cecil Taylor,
Black Flag,
Gang Green,
Kas Product,
Aloha Tigers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Severed Heads,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Gories,
Lucky Dragons,
Jesper Dahlback,
Joensuu 1685,
Laurel Aitken,
Eden Ahbez,
The Smiths,
Erasure,
The Offenders,
The Names,
Gabor Szabo,
Slave,
Model 500,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bobby Byrd,
The Monochrome Set,
Gang of Four,
Kaleidoscope,
Archie Shepp,
Colin Newman,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lou Christie,
Josef K,
Darondo,
Patti Smith,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.