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 Guinea-Bissau and from Tehran.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Interpol to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sound. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
Amon Düül II,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ludus,
Hardrive,
Carl Craig,
Infiniti,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bluetip,
Goldenarms,
The Cure,
Organ,
Althea and Donna,
The Barracudas,
Half Japanese,
Pantaleimon,
Marcia Griffiths,
Brass Construction,
Crime,
The Saints,
The Motions,
The Five Americans,
Barrington Levy,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sight & Sound,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Black Sheep,
kango's stein massive,
Soul II Soul,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Faraquet,
In Retrospect,
Max Romeo,
the Sonics,
Whodini,
L. Decosne,
Harmonia,
Andrew Hill,
Motorama,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gichy Dan,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Last Poets,
Cheater Slicks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Shoche,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pagans,
Lee Hazlewood,
Silicon Teens,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Tommy Roe,
T. Rex,
Jeff Lynne,
Scott Walker,
Angry Samoans,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.