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 Dominican Republic and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Star Department to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
The Velvet Underground,
The Smiths,
Das Ding,
Little Man,
Donny Hathaway,
Shuggie Otis,
Don Cherry,
Robert Hood,
The Grass Roots,
Kaleidoscope,
The Electric Prunes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Wally Richardson,
Youth Brigade,
Basic Channel,
Duran Duran,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Toasters,
Gichy Dan,
Faraquet,
Eve St. Jones,
Rites of Spring,
Qualms,
Letta Mbulu,
Ultimate Spinach,
Make Up,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Goldenarms,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Interpol,
The Barracudas,
Scratch Acid,
Andrew Hill,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Visage,
The Blues Magoos,
Lightning Bolt,
LL Cool J,
Buzzcocks,
The Residents,
Ralphi Rosario,
Slick Rick,
The Stooges,
Wire,
Arthur Verocai,
Connie Case,
Crooked Eye,
Avey Tare,
Tubeway Army,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Stetsasonic,
Girls At Our Best!,
Leonard Cohen,
The Slackers,
Roy Ayers,
Television,
Yaz,
Outsiders,
Delta 5,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.