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 Slovenia and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the oboe 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 Grandmaster Flash to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter and Kerry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
Newcleus,
Frankie Knuckles,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Real Kids,
Maurizio,
Tim Buckley,
Robert Görl,
Young Marble Giants,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kayak,
Lungfish,
H. Thieme,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tommy Roe,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Masters at Work,
The Fugs,
The Move,
Joy Division,
Rhythm & Sound,
Grauzone,
Heaven 17,
Warsaw,
Section 25,
Underground Resistance,
Wire,
Soft Cell,
Sound Behaviour,
Organ,
Procol Harum,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Scientists,
Robert Wyatt,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Boz Scaggs,
Sun City Girls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Blake Baxter,
Gang Green,
Dave Gahan,
Donald Byrd,
Niagra,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rufus Thomas,
The Searchers,
Q and Not U,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Skatalites,
The Black Dice,
Cameo,
the Human League,
Dawn Penn,
The Standells,
The Happenings,
Faraquet,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Misunderstood,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.