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 Ecuador and from Bremen.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 808 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 Fela Kuti to the jazz 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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Gregory Isaacs,
Moby Grape,
Ultravox,
Colin Newman,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Max Romeo,
Darondo,
Camouflage,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sparks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mad Mike,
Scrapy,
World's Most,
The Victims,
Brothers Johnson,
Newcleus,
Lou Christie,
The Sonics,
Negative Approach,
The Dirtbombs,
Warren Ellis,
Country Teasers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Loose Ends,
Faraquet,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kas Product,
Ultimate Spinach,
Idris Muhammad,
Schoolly D,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Pop Group,
The Dead C,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sun Ra,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Tubeway Army,
Rapeman,
Barry Ungar,
Pierre Henry,
The Fire Engines,
Gichy Dan,
Erykah Badu,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Dave Gahan,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Harmonia,
Rekid,
The Selecter,
Harry Pussy,
Eric Copeland,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Roxy Music,
The Evens,
Arcadia,
The Cure,
Visage,
Terry Callier,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.