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 Kazakhstan and from Edmonton.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 güiro 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 Janne Schatter to the crunk 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 The Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All the Normal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes 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 clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
Juan Atkins,
Symarip,
Bang On A Can,
Janne Schatter,
Jeru the Damaja,
Crispian St. Peters,
Faraquet,
Barry Ungar,
Harry Pussy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bizarre Inc.,
La Düsseldorf,
Deepchord,
In Retrospect,
The Cramps,
Derrick May,
DJ Sneak,
Roxy Music,
Delon & Dalcan,
the Bar-Kays,
Aswad,
Motorama,
Sexual Harrassment,
LL Cool J,
Lalo Schifrin,
Can,
The Five Americans,
Donny Hathaway,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jeff Mills,
Aloha Tigers,
MC5,
James White and The Blacks,
Moss Icon,
Davy DMX,
Rotary Connection,
Leonard Cohen,
Talk Talk,
Buzzcocks,
R.M.O.,
Suicide,
MDC,
The J.B.'s,
The Cowsills,
Deakin,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Morten Harket,
Heaven 17,
The Saints,
Pantytec,
Oblivians,
Scott Walker,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Metal Thangz,
Dawn Penn,
Johnny Clarke,
The Music Machine,
Godley & Creme,
New Order,
the Soft Cell,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.