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 Delhi.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 David Bowie 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 Heavy D & The Boyz to the disco 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 The Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maurizio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
Mandrill,
Kerri Chandler,
K-Klass,
Blossom Toes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Stiv Bators,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Blackbyrds,
Lindisfarne,
Unwound,
The Standells,
Al Stewart,
Tubeway Army,
Oblivians,
Radiohead,
Man Eating Sloth,
F. McDonald,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sandy B,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Clear Light,
Harry Pussy,
Bang On A Can,
8 Eyed Spy,
T.S.O.L.,
Marine Girls,
Gabor Szabo,
The Evens,
Shoche,
Neil Young,
Frankie Knuckles,
Essential Logic,
Grauzone,
Slave,
Whodini,
Loose Ends,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Electric Prunes,
Bush Tetras,
The Shadows of Knight,
Reuben Wilson,
Marvin Gaye,
Groovy Waters,
The Wake,
The Fire Engines,
Traffic Nightmare,
Rekid,
Ken Boothe,
Pere Ubu,
World's Most,
Tres Demented,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pylon,
The Invisible,
Toni Rubio,
Max Romeo,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.