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 Thailand and from Bologna.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 World's Most to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Lynne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Technova record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
Michelle Simonal,
Chris & Cosey,
The Electric Prunes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Marcia Griffiths,
Joe Finger,
The Sound,
Aaron Thompson,
The Associates,
Tomorrow,
Joey Negro,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
FM Einheit,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lucky Dragons,
Index,
Skriet,
Sex Pistols,
Fela Kuti,
Marvin Gaye,
Heaven 17,
Royal Trux,
Bang On A Can,
H. Thieme,
The Invisible,
Bad Manners,
Rites of Spring,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Crispy Ambulance,
Marc Almond,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Joy Division,
Yusef Lateef,
UT,
The Alarm Clocks,
Public Enemy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Thompson Twins,
The Misunderstood,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Con Funk Shun,
Kool Moe Dee,
Newcleus,
The Mojo Men,
Underground Resistance,
Bootsy Collins,
8 Eyed Spy,
T. Rex,
The Move,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Names,
Nik Kershaw,
Gil Scott Heron,
Guru Guru,
Circle Jerks,
The Angels of Light,
Bill Wells,
Panda Bear,
The Velvet Underground,
Man Parrish,
The Offenders,
Girls At Our Best!,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.