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 Comoros and from Mumbai.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Cramps. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
Inner City,
The Doors,
Lee Hazlewood,
L. Decosne,
X-Ray Spex,
Model 500,
Vladislav Delay,
Q65,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sexual Harrassment,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Flesh Eaters,
Outsiders,
The Kinks,
Alton Ellis,
Warsaw,
Sight & Sound,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Neil Young,
Wally Richardson,
Agent Orange,
Black Bananas,
Organ,
Gregory Isaacs,
Vainqueur,
UT,
Mary Jane Girls,
ABC,
Blancmange,
Heaven 17,
Adolescents,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mars,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
ABBA,
Metal Thangz,
Bob Dylan,
Anakelly,
Dual Sessions,
Cecil Taylor,
Charles Mingus,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Animal Collective,
Black Pus,
Rhythm & Sound,
X-102,
Audionom,
Mo-Dettes,
DNA,
48th St. Collective,
Lyres,
the Bar-Kays,
Ornette Coleman,
Darondo,
Drive Like Jehu,
Das Ding,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.