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 Georgia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Rosa Yemen to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Index,
Al Stewart,
Gang Green,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Silicon Teens,
John Coltrane,
Kevin Saunderson,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Eric Dolphy,
Radio Birdman,
Bobby Womack,
the Fania All-Stars,
Soulsonic Force,
The Divine Comedy,
The Mojo Men,
Make Up,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Selecter,
Tom Boy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Blossom Toes,
Brothers Johnson,
Mission of Burma,
Jerry's Kids,
Fat Boys,
Reagan Youth,
Popol Vuh,
Eric B and Rakim,
Archie Shepp,
Agitation Free,
Whodini,
Das Ding,
Depeche Mode,
U.S. Maple,
The Happenings,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sixth Finger,
Crispian St. Peters,
Eve St. Jones,
Pylon,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Cymande,
The Vogues,
Hasil Adkins,
The Flesh Eaters,
Max Romeo,
Brick,
The Misunderstood,
Matthew Halsall,
Chrome,
Deadbeat,
The Fortunes,
Can,
Circle Jerks,
Robert Görl,
Todd Rundgren,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Aaron Thompson,
The Cure,
Deepchord,
Adolescents,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.