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 Vietnam and from Accra.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Simply Red to the grunge 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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Mantronix tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul II Soul record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Sonic Youth,
Lakeside,
Ken Boothe,
Boogie Down Productions,
Frankie Knuckles,
D'Angelo,
June of 44,
Harry Pussy,
Make Up,
Morten Harket,
Desert Stars,
Judy Mowatt,
The Standells,
John Lydon,
DJ Style,
Brass Construction,
The Alarm Clocks,
Freddie Wadling,
OOIOO,
Tim Buckley,
Tom Boy,
Organ,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
New York Dolls,
Absolute Body Control,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Eric B and Rakim,
48th St. Collective,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Trojans,
Hashim,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Nas,
The Fuzztones,
Depeche Mode,
This Heat,
The J.B.'s,
Soft Machine,
The Monochrome Set,
The Neon Judgement,
E-Dancer,
Donald Byrd,
Aaron Thompson,
Mad Mike,
The Saints,
Arthur Verocai,
Animal Collective,
Simply Red,
Lucky Dragons,
Porter Ricks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sex Pistols,
Idris Muhammad,
David Bowie,
Fat Boys,
One Last Wish,
Thompson Twins,
kango's stein massive,
Sugar Minott,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.