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 Lebanon and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Standells to the jazz 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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jimmy McGriff record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fluxion,
New Order,
Joensuu 1685,
These Immortal Souls,
Jacques Brel,
Bang On A Can,
The Dead C,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Neon Judgement,
The Mummies,
Blancmange,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sly & The Family Stone,
A Certain Ratio,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Eli Mardock,
PIL,
X-102,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lindisfarne,
The Selecter,
Howard Jones,
Funky Four + One,
Prince Buster,
The Smoke,
Eric Dolphy,
MC5,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sight & Sound,
Rapeman,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
X-101,
The Black Dice,
Jimmy McGriff,
Reagan Youth,
Crash Course in Science,
The Cowsills,
Kayak,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Tremeloes,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Jeff Mills,
Oneida,
Dead Boys,
Siglo XX,
Wally Richardson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Con Funk Shun,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Doobie Brothers,
Matthew Halsall,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sparks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Scan 7,
The Gun Club,
Boogie Down Productions,
Severed Heads,
LL Cool J,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.