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 Chad and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lyon.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Metal Thangz to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Ronan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delta 5 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
Index,
Harpers Bizarre,
The United States of America,
James White and The Blacks,
Eric Dolphy,
Maurizio,
a-ha,
MC5,
Donny Hathaway,
Fatback Band,
Rhythm & Sound,
Throbbing Gristle,
Thee Headcoats,
L. Decosne,
Yusef Lateef,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Monks,
The American Breed,
The Pretty Things,
Von Mondo,
Accadde A,
Visage,
Spoonie Gee,
Amon Düül,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Peter & Gordon,
Eden Ahbez,
Patti Smith,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Last Poets,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Music Machine,
Nico,
Harry Pussy,
Absolute Body Control,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ludus,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
U.S. Maple,
Man Parrish,
Flipper,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Minnie Riperton,
the Slits,
Kenny Larkin,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Can,
Inner City,
Crispian St. Peters,
Al Stewart,
Grauzone,
The Fall,
These Immortal Souls,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Buzzcocks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lalo Schifrin,
Symarip,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sonny Sharrock,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.