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 Calgary.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Al Stewart 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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Rod Modell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
Rod Modell,
Sixth Finger,
Tears for Fears,
Mark Hollis,
Gang Starr,
One Last Wish,
Ponytail,
Scientists,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Porter Ricks,
China Crisis,
Joyce Sims,
Bill Near,
The Modern Lovers,
The Durutti Column,
Al Stewart,
Dennis Brown,
Drexciya,
These Immortal Souls,
Gang of Four,
X-102,
The Fall,
Suicide,
Ornette Coleman,
Ultravox,
Animal Collective,
Television Personalities,
Stockholm Monsters,
Hot Snakes,
The Gun Club,
Alison Limerick,
Symarip,
Nils Olav,
The Flesh Eaters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Donald Byrd,
The Human League,
Archie Shepp,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Knickerbockers,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Human League,
E-Dancer,
The Doors,
Sugar Minott,
John Holt,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rapeman,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sarah Menescal,
Byron Stingily,
Guru Guru,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Magma,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sonny Sharrock,
Harry Pussy,
Blossom Toes,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.