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 Jordan and from Lagos.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 oboe 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 Livin' Joy to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
Dark Day,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Doobie Brothers,
Shoche,
Radiopuhelimet,
John Coltrane,
Derrick Morgan,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Crooked Eye,
Monolake,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pussy Galore,
The Shadows of Knight,
Tears for Fears,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Patti Smith,
Black Bananas,
The Moody Blues,
The Standells,
Ossler,
Marc Almond,
Dawn Penn,
A Flock of Seagulls,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
New York Dolls,
Barclay James Harvest,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jacques Brel,
Underground Resistance,
Camberwell Now,
Fat Boys,
Sarah Menescal,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Negative Approach,
Barrington Levy,
Procol Harum,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ultra Naté,
The Monks,
Toni Rubio,
The Misunderstood,
Eric Copeland,
Unrelated Segments,
Isaac Hayes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sound Behaviour,
Idris Muhammad,
10cc,
Scion,
The Wake,
Vainqueur,
DNA,
The Durutti Column,
Surgeon,
Metal Thangz,
Blossom Toes,
The Move,
The Gories,
Flamin' Groovies,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.