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 Botswana and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 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 Pulsallama to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Godley & Creme. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Goldenarms,
The Mummies,
Pantaleimon,
Nirvana,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lyres,
Anakelly,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Kinks,
The Barracudas,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jeru the Damaja,
Peter and Kerry,
John Lydon,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lungfish,
The Dirtbombs,
Sandy B,
Mad Mike,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Guru Guru,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
One Last Wish,
Warsaw,
Motorama,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Davy DMX,
Dawn Penn,
Patti Smith,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Saccharine Trust,
Nation of Ulysses,
Absolute Body Control,
the Bar-Kays,
The American Breed,
Lou Christie,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Cure,
John Holt,
Colin Newman,
Half Japanese,
Suburban Knight,
Althea and Donna,
Amon Düül II,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Leonard Cohen,
Young Marble Giants,
Boredoms,
Glambeats Corp.,
MC5,
Aaron Thompson,
The Dead C,
Ken Boothe,
Organ,
Avey Tare,
The Tremeloes,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.