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 Sudan and from Edmonton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 FM Einheit to the funk 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All The Blues Magoos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grauzone 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Infiniti,
Wolf Eyes,
Can,
Urselle,
The Sonics,
F. McDonald,
Aloha Tigers,
Gabor Szabo,
This Heat,
The Index,
Wasted Youth,
Tubeway Army,
Wings,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Young Marble Giants,
Boz Scaggs,
Y Pants,
Chris & Cosey,
cv313,
JFA,
Minor Threat,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Symarip,
Dennis Brown,
The J.B.'s,
Black Bananas,
Cheater Slicks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Red Krayola,
John Coltrane,
The Star Department,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jerry's Kids,
the Sonics,
Stockholm Monsters,
Anthony Braxton,
Frankie Knuckles,
Erykah Badu,
Stetsasonic,
Scientists,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sun Ra,
Brick,
Matthew Bourne,
Connie Case,
Johnny Osbourne,
Visage,
Josef K,
Funky Four + One,
Agent Orange,
Mars,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Archie Shepp,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ronan,
Aswad,
The Slackers,
Jacques Brel,
Sugar Minott,
Mad Mike,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.