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 Niger and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 synthesizer 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 Desert Stars to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Isaac Hayes 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Matthew Halsall,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mandrill,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Underground Resistance,
Monks,
Desert Stars,
Reagan Youth,
Lalann,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Misunderstood,
Swell Maps,
Minutemen,
Henry Cow,
Terry Callier,
Piero Umiliani,
Patti Smith,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tim Buckley,
Harpers Bizarre,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Dirtbombs,
Yellowson,
La Düsseldorf,
Eric B and Rakim,
Arab on Radar,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Barbara Tucker,
Carl Craig,
Chrome,
MDC,
Black Moon,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sonic Youth,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pantytec,
Youth Brigade,
Pet Shop Boys,
Depeche Mode,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Livin' Joy,
Joy Division,
Judy Mowatt,
Wally Richardson,
Kenny Larkin,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
New York Dolls,
The Monks,
Bronski Beat,
David Axelrod,
Black Sheep,
The Divine Comedy,
Tom Boy,
Erykah Badu,
Drive Like Jehu,
Man Parrish,
Schoolly D,
Wasted Youth,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.