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 Guinea-Bissau and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 harpsichord 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 Sister Nancy to the disco 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Model 500,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Second Layer,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Wasted Youth,
the Germs,
Urselle,
Scratch Acid,
Royal Trux,
Black Moon,
U.S. Maple,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Reuben Wilson,
Technova,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Quadrant,
Agent Orange,
Dawn Penn,
Circle Jerks,
Mantronix,
Clear Light,
F. McDonald,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Smoke,
Bobby Byrd,
Excepter,
Flash Fearless,
Archie Shepp,
The Monks,
Pulsallama,
The Dead C,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Fania All-Stars,
Michelle Simonal,
Audionom,
Talk Talk,
Siglo XX,
Ohio Players,
Newcleus,
The Searchers,
Chris & Cosey,
Thee Headcoats,
R.M.O.,
Sixth Finger,
Crispy Ambulance,
Brass Construction,
The Modern Lovers,
Eric Dolphy,
Roy Ayers,
Vainqueur,
Joey Negro,
Brand Nubian,
Jesper Dahlback,
Susan Cadogan,
The New Christs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Angry Samoans,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Yusef Lateef,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.