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 Cuba and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Captain Beefheart 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 CMW to the grime 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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Moby Grape,
cv313,
Tears for Fears,
Pussy Galore,
OOIOO,
Arab on Radar,
Ronan,
Robert Hood,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Boz Scaggs,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Joe Smooth,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ronnie Foster,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Barry Ungar,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Scrapy,
Marvin Gaye,
Liliput,
Nick Fraelich,
Yazoo,
Pole,
Heaven 17,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Trumans Water,
Moebius,
John Lydon,
Pere Ubu,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
kango's stein massive,
the Swans,
Rapeman,
Eric B and Rakim,
Leonard Cohen,
Lucky Dragons,
Pantytec,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Germs,
Bootsy Collins,
Black Sheep,
Kas Product,
Barclay James Harvest,
Darondo,
Nas,
Underground Resistance,
Neil Young,
Archie Shepp,
JFA,
Ten City,
Television Personalities,
Drexciya,
Ohio Players,
The Slits,
a-ha,
Arthur Verocai,
The Count Five,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.