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 Kyrgyzstan and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 LL Cool J to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Jeff Mills,
Brothers Johnson,
Connie Case,
Suburban Knight,
Pulsallama,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Fugs,
the Soft Cell,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ultimate Spinach,
Stereo Dub,
June Days,
Kas Product,
OOIOO,
China Crisis,
Tropical Tobacco,
Simply Red,
Lakeside,
Flipper,
Toni Rubio,
Freddie Wadling,
Glenn Branca,
Bill Near,
Surgeon,
Young Marble Giants,
Hashim,
Terry Callier,
Bill Wells,
The Blackbyrds,
Ice-T,
Sight & Sound,
The Dave Clark Five,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
T. Rex,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Nick Fraelich,
Gang of Four,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
La Düsseldorf,
Morten Harket,
Brand Nubian,
Blancmange,
Alice Coltrane,
Deadbeat,
Rapeman,
Delon & Dalcan,
Donald Byrd,
Fear,
Letta Mbulu,
Eric Dolphy,
Kool Moe Dee,
Groovy Waters,
Desert Stars,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Avey Tare,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sparks,
Q and Not U,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.