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 Uruguay and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 snare 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 Minutemen to the rock 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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Eddi Front,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
June of 44,
Crime,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Smoke,
Newcleus,
Moby Grape,
The Music Machine,
Joey Negro,
Hoover,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Juan Atkins,
Radio Birdman,
Zero Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ken Boothe,
Essential Logic,
Byron Stingily,
Jimmy McGriff,
Supertramp,
Glenn Branca,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Mission of Burma,
The Doors,
Minnie Riperton,
Tom Boy,
Siglo XX,
Q and Not U,
Roxette,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Camouflage,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Moody Blues,
Johnny Clarke,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
kango's stein massive,
Flamin' Groovies,
cv313,
Marcia Griffiths,
Grauzone,
The Dave Clark Five,
Leonard Cohen,
Fugazi,
Swans,
Crispian St. Peters,
Electric Prunes,
Average White Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Hardrive,
Funky Four + One,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Hasil Adkins,
48th St. Collective,
The Dead C,
Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye.
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.