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 Senegal and from Houston.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Peter & Gordon to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
OOIOO,
The Mummies,
Johnny Clarke,
48th St. Collective,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Davy DMX,
Wally Richardson,
The Toasters,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Aswad,
Maleditus Sound,
Popol Vuh,
Soul II Soul,
the Fania All-Stars,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The J.B.'s,
Minny Pops,
Pagans,
Joey Negro,
Chris Corsano,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Smoke,
Youth Brigade,
Reagan Youth,
Godley & Creme,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Darondo,
Dawn Penn,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Spoonie Gee,
Whodini,
Q and Not U,
Zapp,
Eurythmics,
FM Einheit,
The Trojans,
Faraquet,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Arcadia,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Fugs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
DJ Sneak,
The Misunderstood,
Bluetip,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Boz Scaggs,
Eddi Front,
R.M.O.,
kango's stein massive,
Barclay James Harvest,
T. Rex,
Public Image Ltd.,
Erykah Badu,
Mantronix,
Clear Light,
The Gun Club,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.