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 Tonga and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 U.S. Maple to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sarah Menescal,
Accadde A,
The Pop Group,
The Slits,
kango's stein massive,
Eric Copeland,
Amon Düül,
Donald Byrd,
Chris Corsano,
KRS-One,
Gichy Dan,
Zapp,
Wasted Youth,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Tomorrow,
Sandy B,
the Normal,
The Wake,
DNA,
Pagans,
Funkadelic,
Rakim,
Supertramp,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Leaves,
Radio Birdman,
The Neon Judgement,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Albert Ayler,
D'Angelo,
Darondo,
Television Personalities,
Angry Samoans,
Sugar Minott,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Eli Mardock,
Lucky Dragons,
Harpers Bizarre,
Country Teasers,
Camouflage,
Mars,
Tubeway Army,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Parry Music,
Subhumans,
Laurel Aitken,
Thompson Twins,
Stiv Bators,
OOIOO,
Minnie Riperton,
Roy Ayers,
Connie Case,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Doobie Brothers,
a-ha,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gerry Rafferty,
Joe Smooth,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mo-Dettes,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.