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 Bahrain and from Delhi.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Cairo.
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 sitar 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 The Monochrome Set to the grunge 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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Negative Approach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
Donald Byrd,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Electric Prunes,
Depeche Mode,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pussy Galore,
Monks,
The Searchers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Flamin' Groovies,
Fluxion,
10cc,
The Electric Prunes,
Colin Newman,
Archie Shepp,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ten City,
Lightning Bolt,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Real Kids,
Arcadia,
Schoolly D,
Wire,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Scientists,
Josef K,
Eden Ahbez,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Litter,
Black Pus,
Soul II Soul,
John Cale,
Rites of Spring,
Agent Orange,
The Gories,
Sound Behaviour,
Subhumans,
Thompson Twins,
The Victims,
Johnny Clarke,
Janne Schatter,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Los Fastidios,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
John Holt,
Cameo,
Lungfish,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Cymande,
The Beau Brummels,
Kerri Chandler,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nation of Ulysses,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Masters at Work,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Drive Like Jehu,
Moebius,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.