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 Barbados and from London.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Amazonics to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Matthew Bourne,
X-101,
Marc Almond,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rekid,
Kayak,
UT,
U.S. Maple,
Public Image Ltd.,
Barbara Tucker,
Sparks,
Minor Threat,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Barclay James Harvest,
John Lydon,
The Selecter,
Porter Ricks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Cure,
Fad Gadget,
Ronan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Slave,
The Associates,
Bad Manners,
The Move,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cymande,
Agent Orange,
Von Mondo,
Jimmy McGriff,
Piero Umiliani,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scrapy,
The Victims,
One Last Wish,
Malaria!,
Roy Ayers,
Radio Birdman,
The Saints,
The Index,
Severed Heads,
KRS-One,
Camberwell Now,
Bush Tetras,
The Leaves,
Minutemen,
DJ Sneak,
Urselle,
Nirvana,
Ludus,
Camouflage,
Amon Düül II,
The Shadows of Knight,
T. Rex,
Radiohead,
Wolf Eyes,
The Offenders,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Blossom Toes,
The Evens,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.