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 Fiji and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 sitar 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 Anthony Braxton to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Ossler,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Wolf Eyes,
La Düsseldorf,
Mark Hollis,
Soft Cell,
Faust,
The Moleskins,
Jeff Mills,
Smog,
Icehouse,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sparks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Toni Rubio,
Gastr Del Sol,
PIL,
Robert Wyatt,
Byron Stingily,
Kaleidoscope,
Section 25,
Jandek,
Unrelated Segments,
The Busters,
Scrapy,
Niagra,
Oblivians,
K-Klass,
Idris Muhammad,
The Vogues,
Tomorrow,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Techniques,
Joey Negro,
Spoonie Gee,
The Real Kids,
Das Ding,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Normal,
New Order,
Gichy Dan,
The Barracudas,
The Monochrome Set,
The Selecter,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dawn Penn,
Thee Headcoats,
The Beau Brummels,
China Crisis,
The Dead C,
The Shadows of Knight,
Masters at Work,
Sound Behaviour,
Josef K,
Drexciya,
Lou Christie,
Nik Kershaw,
Fear,
10cc,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.