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 Oman and from Salvador.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo 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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yusef Lateef record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
The Fuzztones,
Newcleus,
Wolf Eyes,
Robert Görl,
The Remains,
Black Sheep,
Black Moon,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Deadbeat,
Neu!,
Vainqueur,
The Music Machine,
Oblivians,
Can,
The Doobie Brothers,
Aural Exciters,
Cluster,
Gregory Isaacs,
Barbara Tucker,
Wings,
Inner City,
Freddie Wadling,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Agitation Free,
Minny Pops,
The Busters,
Flash Fearless,
Scratch Acid,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Pretty Things,
Suicide,
The Modern Lovers,
Minutemen,
X-102,
Nirvana,
Qualms,
Soul Sonic Force,
Camberwell Now,
The Names,
Dave Gahan,
Jerry's Kids,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lightning Bolt,
Harpers Bizarre,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bad Manners,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Smoke,
D'Angelo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Darondo,
Terry Callier,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Last Poets,
Wasted Youth,
Intrusion,
Television,
John Lydon,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.