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 China and from Lille.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Zeros to the jazz 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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Judy Mowatt 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Siglo XX,
Crash Course in Science,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Joe Finger,
Fat Boys,
Monolake,
Byron Stingily,
The Velvet Underground,
Aloha Tigers,
The Cramps,
Radio Birdman,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Cymande,
Morten Harket,
Hashim,
Laurel Aitken,
The Blues Magoos,
The Walker Brothers,
Yaz,
Quantec,
The Residents,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Animal Collective,
Gil Scott Heron,
10cc,
ABC,
Porter Ricks,
John Coltrane,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Crooked Eye,
Bobby Byrd,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Donald Byrd,
Barrington Levy,
Sällskapet,
FM Einheit,
Gichy Dan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Danielle Patucci,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Judy Mowatt,
Fugazi,
Ice-T,
The Remains,
The Busters,
Susan Cadogan,
Roger Hodgson,
Royal Trux,
The Standells,
Cal Tjader,
Alice Coltrane,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Juan Atkins,
Althea and Donna,
New Age Steppers,
Livin' Joy,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.