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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Tehran.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 organ 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 Bluetip to the techno 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 Accadde A. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harmonia record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bluetip,
Avey Tare,
Scan 7,
New York Dolls,
Desert Stars,
The Doobie Brothers,
Nils Olav,
Kayak,
Neu!,
Tubeway Army,
Grandmaster Flash,
Shoche,
Nico,
Moebius,
The Fuzztones,
Roger Hodgson,
The J.B.'s,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Tomorrow,
FM Einheit,
Agent Orange,
Mad Mike,
The Dirtbombs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Mojo Men,
Panda Bear,
June Days,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gang Starr,
Gil Scott Heron,
Drexciya,
Grauzone,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jeff Lynne,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Fatback Band,
Smog,
Erasure,
Camouflage,
Wasted Youth,
These Immortal Souls,
David Axelrod,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Gories,
Tears for Fears,
Japan,
Anthony Braxton,
Gichy Dan,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Slits,
Rapeman,
Sound Behaviour,
the Bar-Kays,
The United States of America,
The Wake,
Lakeside,
Patti Smith,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.