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 Taiwan and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 ABC to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Au Pairs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jacques Brel,
The Fuzztones,
Clear Light,
Q and Not U,
Tommy Roe,
Man Eating Sloth,
ABBA,
Soft Machine,
the Fania All-Stars,
Joyce Sims,
Brothers Johnson,
Basic Channel,
John Holt,
Symarip,
Outsiders,
the Swans,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jesper Dahlback,
Moss Icon,
Eric Copeland,
Mary Jane Girls,
Andrew Hill,
Half Japanese,
Barbara Tucker,
Isaac Hayes,
Quadrant,
Banda Bassotti,
the Soft Cell,
Cymande,
Silicon Teens,
Sex Pistols,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Tomorrow,
The Searchers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Groovy Waters,
Lebanon Hanover,
Minny Pops,
Fad Gadget,
OOIOO,
Public Enemy,
Thompson Twins,
Colin Newman,
Archie Shepp,
Pantytec,
The Birthday Party,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bluetip,
U.S. Maple,
The Litter,
Matthew Halsall,
Underground Resistance,
Royal Trux,
Inner City,
the Normal,
Lalann,
Japan,
Harry Pussy,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.