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 El Salvador and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Harpers Bizarre to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
Dead Boys,
The Cowsills,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Flesh Eaters,
Tommy Roe,
Jacques Brel,
The Barracudas,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Bill Wells,
Accadde A,
The Cure,
Lungfish,
Chrome,
Second Layer,
The Star Department,
Television,
Aural Exciters,
Underground Resistance,
Brothers Johnson,
Shuggie Otis,
Subhumans,
Reagan Youth,
The Modern Lovers,
X-102,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Victims,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Drive Like Jehu,
Suicide,
The Fuzztones,
The Names,
MC5,
Lalo Schifrin,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Sound,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Joy Division,
The Invisible,
Hashim,
New Order,
Donald Byrd,
Loose Ends,
The Standells,
Big Daddy Kane,
Soft Machine,
AZ,
Gerry Rafferty,
Khruangbin,
Los Fastidios,
Youth Brigade,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gabor Szabo,
Crispy Ambulance,
Hasil Adkins,
The Black Dice,
Ken Boothe,
The Moleskins,
Electric Prunes,
Interpol,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.