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 Morocco and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 chamberlin 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 Harpers Bizarre to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Warren Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter 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?
Aswad,
Thompson Twins,
Scion,
Steve Hackett,
Cybotron,
Wally Richardson,
The Last Poets,
Pantytec,
The Blackbyrds,
Interpol,
Brass Construction,
Pagans,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Yusef Lateef,
The Mojo Men,
John Lydon,
Jimmy McGriff,
Altered Images,
June of 44,
Isaac Hayes,
Massinfluence,
Depeche Mode,
Soft Machine,
Mo-Dettes,
Black Sheep,
Oneida,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lou Christie,
Alison Limerick,
The Mummies,
The Cramps,
Fad Gadget,
Pere Ubu,
Pussy Galore,
The Durutti Column,
The Count Five,
Goldenarms,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Move,
New York Dolls,
Carl Craig,
Ultimate Spinach,
Nils Olav,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Neil Young,
Idris Muhammad,
Pantaleimon,
The Vogues,
Eric Copeland,
Matthew Bourne,
X-102,
Ludus,
Monks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
ABC,
Sun City Girls,
Skriet,
Roy Ayers,
Index,
Wasted Youth,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.