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 Nicaragua and from Jakarta.
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 Columbus and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Blake Baxter to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Nas,
Ultravox,
Radiopuhelimet,
Das Ding,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bobby Sherman,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Yellowson,
Reuben Wilson,
Eli Mardock,
Faust,
Peter & Gordon,
48th St. Collective,
Laurel Aitken,
Soul Sonic Force,
F. McDonald,
Cybotron,
Yusef Lateef,
X-101,
Rufus Thomas,
Rakim,
The Gories,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Q65,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Crash Course in Science,
Brick,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rotary Connection,
Funkadelic,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Livin' Joy,
The Fall,
Parry Music,
the Sonics,
Brothers Johnson,
Mars,
Scrapy,
The Mojo Men,
the Bar-Kays,
Henry Cow,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Music Machine,
Joyce Sims,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Michelle Simonal,
E-Dancer,
The Modern Lovers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Eric Dolphy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Pop Group,
The Cramps,
Boz Scaggs,
L. Decosne,
Metal Thangz,
The Zeros,
The Vogues,
John Holt,
Wolf Eyes,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.