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 Yemen and from Manchester.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tokyo.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fania All-Stars to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Kinks. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Goldenarms 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arcadia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
The Kinks,
Alphaville,
Terry Callier,
R.M.O.,
The Cowsills,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Derrick May,
Stiv Bators,
Tim Buckley,
Joe Finger,
Index,
Television,
Piero Umiliani,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rekid,
Derrick Morgan,
Marmalade,
Banda Bassotti,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Wasted Youth,
Nirvana,
Davy DMX,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Morten Harket,
Soulsonic Force,
Kevin Saunderson,
Dead Boys,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ralphi Rosario,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The United States of America,
T.S.O.L.,
Joey Negro,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Faust,
The Vogues,
Duran Duran,
The Residents,
Delta 5,
Radio Birdman,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Crispy Ambulance,
Minutemen,
Fear,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ultimate Spinach,
E-Dancer,
cv313,
New Age Steppers,
Dawn Penn,
Moby Grape,
The Skatalites,
The Stooges,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Normal,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
X-Ray Spex,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci.
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.