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 New Zealand and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 808 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 Grauzone to the grime 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 Urselle. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s 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 Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
Reuben Wilson,
Pussy Galore,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Stockholm Monsters,
Iggy Pop,
The Smiths,
Marcia Griffiths,
Johnny Clarke,
Jeff Lynne,
The Seeds,
Drive Like Jehu,
Darondo,
Nation of Ulysses,
Delon & Dalcan,
the Human League,
Hoover,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pagans,
A Certain Ratio,
Wasted Youth,
Sonic Youth,
Funky Four + One,
Schoolly D,
Kas Product,
Tim Buckley,
Camberwell Now,
Brand Nubian,
Soft Cell,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Leaves,
The Fall,
Minnie Riperton,
Stiv Bators,
Joe Smooth,
Fatback Band,
Thompson Twins,
Ornette Coleman,
The Velvet Underground,
David Axelrod,
Los Fastidios,
Electric Prunes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Carl Craig,
The Invisible,
U.S. Maple,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Erasure,
Jesper Dahlback,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Fela Kuti,
Derrick Morgan,
The Victims,
Outsiders,
The Human League,
The Gun Club,
The J.B.'s,
Barrington Levy,
The Happenings,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes.
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.