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 Gabon and from Accra.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 arpeggiator 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 The Pop Group to the crunk 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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
Joe Finger,
The Saints,
Monolake,
Ice-T,
Eric B and Rakim,
Zapp,
Mad Mike,
Smog,
Tres Demented,
Grandmaster Flash,
Althea and Donna,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pere Ubu,
The Young Rascals,
Boredoms,
The Evens,
Faraquet,
The Velvet Underground,
The Stooges,
Q65,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Techniques,
Grauzone,
Joe Smooth,
The American Breed,
LL Cool J,
Marc Almond,
Gil Scott Heron,
FM Einheit,
Rotary Connection,
Tom Boy,
Section 25,
Ultimate Spinach,
Suburban Knight,
Steve Hackett,
the Bar-Kays,
The Golliwogs,
Franke,
Prince Buster,
Bob Dylan,
Buzzcocks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Henry Cow,
Essential Logic,
The Monks,
Shoche,
The Move,
Mandrill,
MDC,
Stereo Dub,
Black Flag,
Spandau Ballet,
The Birthday Party,
Wally Richardson,
ABBA,
The Cowsills,
T.S.O.L.,
Joyce Sims,
Mr. Review,
the Association,
Lee Hazlewood,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.