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 Dominica and from Lille.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Donald Fagen 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 Susan Cadogan to the grunge 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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Ohio Players tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Association,
A Certain Ratio,
Warsaw,
Moebius,
The Durutti Column,
X-102,
Lakeside,
Visage,
The Raincoats,
Popol Vuh,
Animal Collective,
The Kinks,
Joey Negro,
Intrusion,
MC5,
The Blues Magoos,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Model 500,
Kurtis Blow,
Can,
Rakim,
One Last Wish,
DNA,
Colin Newman,
Pere Ubu,
Charles Mingus,
Siglo XX,
Matthew Halsall,
Grauzone,
Smog,
Zapp,
The Cure,
Slick Rick,
Franke,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Tremeloes,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Funky Four + One,
Buzzcocks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Magma,
Scratch Acid,
Dave Gahan,
Loose Ends,
Groovy Waters,
The Dirtbombs,
Skriet,
The Gun Club,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bronski Beat,
H. Thieme,
Suicide,
Urselle,
Mary Jane Girls,
These Immortal Souls,
Maurizio,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Trumans Water,
Tears for Fears,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.