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 Guyana and from Columbus.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 guitar 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 Matthew Halsall to the crunk 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 Todd Terry. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The American Breed,
the Slits,
Johnny Clarke,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ten City,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marine Girls,
Wire,
Eden Ahbez,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Gap Band,
Delta 5,
X-102,
Pet Shop Boys,
Desert Stars,
Matthew Bourne,
X-101,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Nils Olav,
Arcadia,
The Doors,
The Music Machine,
Steve Hackett,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Grass Roots,
The Buckinghams,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Harpers Bizarre,
Crooked Eye,
Qualms,
Joy Division,
Erasure,
the Germs,
Au Pairs,
Kas Product,
The Slits,
China Crisis,
Technova,
Pagans,
Rosa Yemen,
DJ Sneak,
Subhumans,
Saccharine Trust,
Popol Vuh,
Shuggie Otis,
Urselle,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Scratch Acid,
Bill Wells,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Black Flag,
Groovy Waters,
Funky Four + One,
Toni Rubio,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.