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 South Sudan and from Milan.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 Pagans to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scientists record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jeru the Damaja,
Livin' Joy,
the Germs,
The Knickerbockers,
Marmalade,
Intrusion,
John Foxx,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pierre Henry,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mad Mike,
Black Sheep,
Glenn Branca,
Pylon,
The Barracudas,
Kerrie Biddell,
Matthew Bourne,
Youth Brigade,
Lou Reed,
Nico,
Tres Demented,
Dorothy Ashby,
Cybotron,
Charles Mingus,
Television,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Buzzcocks,
Eli Mardock,
The Names,
Wolf Eyes,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Main Source,
Brothers Johnson,
The Move,
Reagan Youth,
Aaron Thompson,
The Dirtbombs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Don Cherry,
Heaven 17,
Sight & Sound,
The Fuzztones,
Malaria!,
Darondo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bluetip,
a-ha,
Ralphi Rosario,
Supertramp,
Lindisfarne,
Gong,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Terry Callier,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Terrestrial Tones,
Blossom Toes,
Erykah Badu,
Urselle,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Newcleus,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.