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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 güiro 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 The Alarm Clocks to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rod Modell,
The Fortunes,
The Dave Clark Five,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Silicon Teens,
Popol Vuh,
Niagra,
Robert Wyatt,
Don Cherry,
The Five Americans,
Faraquet,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fatback Band,
Gabor Szabo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
PIL,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Crash Course in Science,
Nation of Ulysses,
Moss Icon,
Connie Case,
Underground Resistance,
Colin Newman,
Fela Kuti,
Moby Grape,
Althea and Donna,
Cybotron,
Robert Hood,
Simply Red,
Steve Hackett,
Tropical Tobacco,
Magma,
X-Ray Spex,
The Fuzztones,
Rekid,
Lou Christie,
cv313,
Frankie Knuckles,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Guru Guru,
The Doobie Brothers,
Smog,
Arab on Radar,
Hot Snakes,
Archie Shepp,
E-Dancer,
Chrome,
Michelle Simonal,
Derrick May,
Graham Central Station,
World's Most,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Roger Hodgson,
Donny Hathaway,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
A Certain Ratio,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.