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 Qatar and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Derrick Morgan to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Smiths,
The Index,
Royal Trux,
Fela Kuti,
Roger Hodgson,
Angry Samoans,
Derrick May,
Ituana,
U.S. Maple,
Kerri Chandler,
The Moleskins,
Swell Maps,
Radiohead,
Surgeon,
Anakelly,
The Beau Brummels,
Buzzcocks,
Index,
Joy Division,
Bang On A Can,
Pussy Galore,
the Bar-Kays,
Arcadia,
Kerrie Biddell,
Organ,
Vladislav Delay,
The Searchers,
Bill Near,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gang Starr,
Deadbeat,
Don Cherry,
Tomorrow,
John Holt,
Blake Baxter,
Girls At Our Best!,
Little Man,
Urselle,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lucky Dragons,
Loose Ends,
Eddi Front,
Flamin' Groovies,
Prince Buster,
Vainqueur,
Arthur Verocai,
Zapp,
Nik Kershaw,
The Moody Blues,
Robert Hood,
Altered Images,
The Star Department,
kango's stein massive,
Half Japanese,
Minnie Riperton,
Pylon,
The Music Machine,
Carl Craig,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Country Teasers,
Freddie Wadling,
Hoover,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.