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 Slovenia and from Bremen.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 F. McDonald to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Schoolly D. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flipper record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
Sex Pistols,
Jandek,
Bang On A Can,
Black Sheep,
Outsiders,
Barclay James Harvest,
Loose Ends,
The Leaves,
Soulsonic Force,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Buckinghams,
Quantec,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Young Marble Giants,
T. Rex,
Arab on Radar,
Barbara Tucker,
Bobbi Humphrey,
X-102,
Gang of Four,
The Fuzztones,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Y Pants,
The Human League,
Josef K,
Rapeman,
The Searchers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Roy Ayers,
Jesper Dahlback,
Babytalk,
Popol Vuh,
John Cale,
The Remains,
Panda Bear,
E-Dancer,
Icehouse,
The Red Krayola,
The Saints,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sonny Sharrock,
John Coltrane,
Ronnie Foster,
Jawbox,
Tomorrow,
Pere Ubu,
Altered Images,
The Moody Blues,
Das Ding,
Erasure,
Pole,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Gories,
Alton Ellis,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.