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 Malawi and from Portland.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All DNA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Faraquet,
Frankie Knuckles,
JFA,
Das Ding,
Sällskapet,
The Dead C,
A Certain Ratio,
The Offenders,
Black Bananas,
Rakim,
Ten City,
OOIOO,
Susan Cadogan,
Country Teasers,
T. Rex,
Ituana,
UT,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Barrington Levy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Boogie Down Productions,
Monks,
Radiopuhelimet,
Tom Boy,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Wolf Eyes,
Echospace,
Anthony Braxton,
The Victims,
Roxy Music,
Subhumans,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Matthew Bourne,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Beau Brummels,
Johnny Clarke,
World's Most,
Tubeway Army,
Depeche Mode,
Ice-T,
Popol Vuh,
Glambeats Corp.,
Joey Negro,
Bill Near,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Dave Clark Five,
Black Flag,
Khruangbin,
Vainqueur,
The Golliwogs,
Adolescents,
Stereo Dub,
The United States of America,
Wire,
Ohio Players,
Electric Prunes,
Crispian St. Peters,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.