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 Nepal and from Cairo.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Public Enemy to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gastr Del Sol,
Animal Collective,
The Raincoats,
Toni Rubio,
The Star Department,
Alison Limerick,
Technova,
John Foxx,
Black Pus,
X-Ray Spex,
Kerrie Biddell,
Amazonics,
Gang of Four,
The Fuzztones,
Hot Snakes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Letta Mbulu,
Scientists,
Brand Nubian,
The Detroit Cobras,
Vainqueur,
Negative Approach,
Country Teasers,
Johnny Clarke,
Sex Pistols,
CMW,
Peter & Gordon,
Patti Smith,
The Toasters,
X-102,
Saccharine Trust,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Eden Ahbez,
John Lydon,
Barry Ungar,
Vladislav Delay,
Absolute Body Control,
The Index,
Lalann,
Lungfish,
Parry Music,
Laurel Aitken,
Au Pairs,
The Smoke,
Avey Tare,
Visage,
Cameo,
The Monks,
Rapeman,
The Selecter,
Alphaville,
The Names,
Ice-T,
Barclay James Harvest,
a-ha,
Bad Manners,
Kurtis Blow,
Steve Hackett,
James White and The Blacks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.