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 Guatemala and from Manchester.
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 Accra and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Brand Nubian to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echospace,
AZ,
Laurel Aitken,
Howard Jones,
Derrick May,
cv313,
Dark Day,
Ludus,
Infiniti,
Danielle Patucci,
Urselle,
The Monks,
Gong,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mary Jane Girls,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eric B and Rakim,
Oneida,
Simply Red,
The Happenings,
Eddi Front,
The Cowsills,
The Durutti Column,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Hashim,
Jacob Miller,
Pussy Galore,
The Techniques,
Bush Tetras,
Interpol,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
New York Dolls,
Ronnie Foster,
Goldenarms,
Reuben Wilson,
Little Man,
Rites of Spring,
Lou Christie,
Black Sheep,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rosa Yemen,
The Cramps,
Von Mondo,
Suburban Knight,
Quadrant,
The Litter,
The Modern Lovers,
Sound Behaviour,
Accadde A,
Zero Boys,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Magma,
Half Japanese,
MDC,
Can,
Barbara Tucker,
Lou Reed,
E-Dancer,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Liliput,
10cc,
Kerrie Biddell,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.