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 Mauritania and from Woodstock.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sisters of Mercy to the grime 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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
The Monks,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Black Bananas,
Barrington Levy,
Bob Dylan,
Man Eating Sloth,
Barry Ungar,
Wolf Eyes,
Hardrive,
Basic Channel,
The Trojans,
Average White Band,
Cymande,
Don Cherry,
Oblivians,
Pierre Henry,
The New Christs,
Deepchord,
Livin' Joy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Last Poets,
Procol Harum,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Con Funk Shun,
Stetsasonic,
Swans,
Anakelly,
Arcadia,
Desert Stars,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Leaves,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Suburban Knight,
Aloha Tigers,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Selecter,
The Fortunes,
Dual Sessions,
Main Source,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Public Enemy,
Minny Pops,
Althea and Donna,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Susan Cadogan,
The Searchers,
the Human League,
One Last Wish,
Sugar Minott,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Royal Trux,
Crime,
Rotary Connection,
Marvin Gaye,
Thee Headcoats,
Todd Rundgren,
Qualms,
The Remains,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bad Manners,
Boredoms,
Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins.
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.