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 Maldives and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 China Crisis to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ossler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The American Breed,
The Names,
Second Layer,
The Mummies,
Popol Vuh,
Q and Not U,
Quadrant,
Mr. Review,
Godley & Creme,
Sarah Menescal,
Mission of Burma,
ABC,
Wally Richardson,
June Days,
The Busters,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mo-Dettes,
The Skatalites,
The Martian,
Sexual Harrassment,
Y Pants,
Janne Schatter,
Country Teasers,
Whodini,
Skriet,
Rapeman,
L. Decosne,
Fluxion,
Rakim,
Funkadelic,
Stetsasonic,
Masters at Work,
Franke,
The Star Department,
Rites of Spring,
Boredoms,
The Human League,
Aswad,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Vogues,
Massinfluence,
Lucky Dragons,
Charles Mingus,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Blues Magoos,
Sound Behaviour,
The Standells,
Oblivians,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kaleidoscope,
The Fuzztones,
Jerry's Kids,
Joe Smooth,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Livin' Joy,
Bootsy Collins,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.