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 Somalia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Byron Stingily to the punk 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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
Albert Ayler,
Johnny Clarke,
The Dirtbombs,
These Immortal Souls,
Mars,
The Music Machine,
48th St. Collective,
The Searchers,
Marmalade,
Sällskapet,
New Order,
Traffic Nightmare,
DJ Sneak,
The Mummies,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Camberwell Now,
Hardrive,
Johnny Osbourne,
Television Personalities,
Scott Walker,
X-Ray Spex,
Nas,
Lou Christie,
Metal Thangz,
the Human League,
Schoolly D,
Minnie Riperton,
Yazoo,
Sun City Girls,
Stiv Bators,
Slave,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marcia Griffiths,
ABBA,
Fugazi,
Amon Düül,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Neu!,
Kaleidoscope,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Intrusion,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Donny Hathaway,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rakim,
The Fugs,
Rufus Thomas,
Pagans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jeff Mills,
Black Flag,
Big Daddy Kane,
PIL,
The Dave Clark Five,
Minny Pops,
E-Dancer,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Robert Hood,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.