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 Equatorial Guinea and from Lille.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Fire Engines to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All Sunsets and Hearts tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Suburban Knight,
The Modern Lovers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Dennis Brown,
Angry Samoans,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eve St. Jones,
Cameo,
Heaven 17,
The Busters,
EPMD,
June of 44,
Simply Red,
The Dead C,
The Toasters,
the Sonics,
The Fuzztones,
Eric Dolphy,
Young Marble Giants,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Dual Sessions,
Michelle Simonal,
T. Rex,
Faraquet,
Adolescents,
Tubeway Army,
Peter & Gordon,
Soul II Soul,
Lee Hazlewood,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Anakelly,
Faust,
Silicon Teens,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jerry's Kids,
Das Ding,
This Heat,
The Index,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Todd Rundgren,
Loose Ends,
Roxy Music,
8 Eyed Spy,
Minnie Riperton,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
John Foxx,
The American Breed,
Kurtis Blow,
Althea and Donna,
James White and The Blacks,
Morten Harket,
Fad Gadget,
Reagan Youth,
The Gories,
Marine Girls,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.