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 Honduras and from Edmonton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Freddie Wadling to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 güiro and a mellotron 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 guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Bar-Kays,
Josef K,
Connie Case,
The Fall,
Marvin Gaye,
The Barracudas,
Fluxion,
Roxette,
The Gladiators,
Tommy Roe,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bad Manners,
Ludus,
Siglo XX,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Black Sheep,
Radio Birdman,
Sparks,
Black Flag,
Chris & Cosey,
Bluetip,
Country Teasers,
the Association,
Skriet,
Quantec,
Tomorrow,
Television Personalities,
James White and The Blacks,
Flipper,
Main Source,
Gastr Del Sol,
Inner City,
The Evens,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Minny Pops,
Don Cherry,
Joe Smooth,
Thee Headcoats,
Underground Resistance,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The J.B.'s,
Agitation Free,
Minutemen,
T.S.O.L.,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Soft Cell,
Bang On A Can,
Maurizio,
Matthew Bourne,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Eric Copeland,
Neil Young,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Fortunes,
Subhumans,
Monolake,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Dave Gahan,
Pierre Henry,
The Shadows of Knight,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.