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 Sri Lanka and from Edmonton.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Jakarta.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Frankie Knuckles to the techno 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 Mummies. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Severed Heads,
Camberwell Now,
MC5,
The Toasters,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bob Dylan,
Donald Byrd,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Leonard Cohen,
X-101,
The United States of America,
World's Most,
John Lydon,
Derrick Morgan,
Donny Hathaway,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Divine Comedy,
Prince Buster,
DJ Sneak,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Shuggie Otis,
Tim Buckley,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Liliput,
Piero Umiliani,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Judy Mowatt,
Hasil Adkins,
48th St. Collective,
Unrelated Segments,
10cc,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Real Kids,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Charles Mingus,
Toni Rubio,
Thee Headcoats,
Radiohead,
Minor Threat,
Arab on Radar,
Davy DMX,
Ornette Coleman,
Negative Approach,
Dorothy Ashby,
Magazine,
Second Layer,
Jacques Brel,
Eric Copeland,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
A Certain Ratio,
Matthew Halsall,
The Durutti Column,
Half Japanese,
The Monks,
The Sound,
X-Ray Spex,
Patti Smith,
The American Breed,
Kas Product,
CMW,
Flipper,
David McCallum,
Kaleidoscope,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.