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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Mummies 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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Newcleus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
The Music Machine,
Desert Stars,
Rapeman,
Marcia Griffiths,
Amon Düül II,
Bad Manners,
Camberwell Now,
The Move,
Mars,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pussy Galore,
Lakeside,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
L. Decosne,
Rakim,
Motorama,
Eric Copeland,
Organ,
Laurel Aitken,
OOIOO,
KRS-One,
The Leaves,
Ultimate Spinach,
Byron Stingily,
Lungfish,
48th St. Collective,
Scan 7,
Terrestrial Tones,
Heaven 17,
The Doors,
Graham Central Station,
Sun Ra,
Terry Callier,
Lalann,
Gregory Isaacs,
the Soft Cell,
Juan Atkins,
Popol Vuh,
Camouflage,
Minutemen,
Pylon,
The Trojans,
Jacques Brel,
Massinfluence,
Tres Demented,
Andrew Hill,
Crash Course in Science,
The Standells,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Accadde A,
Althea and Donna,
Grauzone,
Godley & Creme,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Real Kids,
The Shadows of Knight,
Tropical Tobacco,
Public Image Ltd.,
Yazoo,
Supertramp,
Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee.
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.