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 Norway and from Beijing.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Stockholm Monsters to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 MDC. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Germs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
Mr. Review,
Altered Images,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Cowsills,
The Fugs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Camberwell Now,
Davy DMX,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Girls At Our Best!,
Camouflage,
Dual Sessions,
Johnny Clarke,
Rakim,
Nik Kershaw,
Mission of Burma,
Alison Limerick,
Eric B and Rakim,
Scratch Acid,
Wasted Youth,
Swell Maps,
Qualms,
Black Moon,
Letta Mbulu,
Pierre Henry,
Tres Demented,
Be Bop Deluxe,
T. Rex,
The Slits,
The Move,
Funky Four + One,
Howard Jones,
Black Bananas,
Nico,
The Offenders,
The Misunderstood,
Lyres,
The Evens,
Masters at Work,
LL Cool J,
Iggy Pop,
Deadbeat,
The American Breed,
Judy Mowatt,
The Moody Blues,
Sonic Youth,
Intrusion,
The Zeros,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Technova,
The Vogues,
Shoche,
Ken Boothe,
The Electric Prunes,
the Slits,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Black Pus,
Magma,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.