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 St Lucia and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 mellotron 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 Donny Hathaway 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 The Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All Godley & Creme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols 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?
Boz Scaggs,
Lightning Bolt,
The Cure,
Desert Stars,
Whodini,
Rotary Connection,
Robert Görl,
Jacob Miller,
In Retrospect,
Dead Boys,
Skriet,
Thompson Twins,
Franke,
Adolescents,
Wolf Eyes,
Delon & Dalcan,
Vainqueur,
Pharoah Sanders,
Liliput,
Mission of Burma,
The J.B.'s,
Brothers Johnson,
Joy Division,
The Real Kids,
The Human League,
Slave,
Curtis Mayfield,
Smog,
The Raincoats,
Mantronix,
CMW,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Walker Brothers,
Juan Atkins,
Blossom Toes,
Young Marble Giants,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Remains,
R.M.O.,
Al Stewart,
The Divine Comedy,
The Associates,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Hoover,
The Kinks,
The Star Department,
D'Angelo,
Tubeway Army,
Minor Threat,
Rites of Spring,
Morten Harket,
F. McDonald,
June of 44,
The Angels of Light,
Rhythm & Sound,
Magma,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Altered Images,
Grauzone,
Bluetip,
UT,
Bang On A Can,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.