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 Afghanistan and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 808 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 Silicon Teens to the crunk 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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sunsets and Hearts record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Anthony Braxton,
Neil Young,
Animal Collective,
FM Einheit,
Bobby Womack,
Graham Central Station,
Crash Course in Science,
The Names,
Minor Threat,
Section 25,
Drexciya,
Jawbox,
Loose Ends,
Heaven 17,
Lindisfarne,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lower 48,
Jesper Dahlback,
Suicide,
Soulsonic Force,
Rod Modell,
Minutemen,
Q65,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Golliwogs,
Deakin,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jimmy McGriff,
the Soft Cell,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Crooked Eye,
Los Fastidios,
Zero Boys,
Grauzone,
Radiohead,
the Normal,
Gong,
The Divine Comedy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Joey Negro,
Janne Schatter,
Von Mondo,
Stiv Bators,
OOIOO,
Gregory Isaacs,
Tom Boy,
Bang On A Can,
DJ Style,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Alarm Clocks,
Simply Red,
New Age Steppers,
Kaleidoscope,
Bootsy Collins,
Quando Quango,
The Move,
Anakelly,
Outsiders,
Warsaw,
Ken Boothe,
Tommy Roe,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.