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 South Africa and from Lille.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 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 Man Eating Sloth to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Zapp,
the Germs,
ABC,
Steve Hackett,
Hoover,
Fear,
The New Christs,
Dark Day,
Severed Heads,
Crooked Eye,
The Neon Judgement,
Glambeats Corp.,
Arthur Verocai,
The Stooges,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Young Marble Giants,
Visage,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Zero Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Gladiators,
The Offenders,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Association,
FM Einheit,
Aloha Tigers,
Bill Near,
Aural Exciters,
Sight & Sound,
Bauhaus,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Standells,
Whodini,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Spoonie Gee,
R.M.O.,
David Bowie,
The Pretty Things,
Lou Reed,
Terrestrial Tones,
AZ,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Quadrant,
Groovy Waters,
Moby Grape,
Slick Rick,
Gabor Szabo,
The Gories,
Simply Red,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Joy Division,
Joe Finger,
Magazine,
Crispian St. Peters,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sister Nancy,
Black Bananas,
Accadde A,
X-102,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.