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 United Kingdom and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Neon Judgement to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Certain Ratio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer 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 Dirtbombs,
Smog,
the Sonics,
The Fugs,
Monks,
Fatback Band,
Buzzcocks,
The Stooges,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Count Five,
Zero Boys,
Minor Threat,
Marmalade,
Kurtis Blow,
Radio Birdman,
L. Decosne,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
John Holt,
Stockholm Monsters,
Babytalk,
Scratch Acid,
Rapeman,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Victims,
Jandek,
Pole,
The Mummies,
Patti Smith,
Judy Mowatt,
The Searchers,
Grauzone,
F. McDonald,
The Misunderstood,
Sun Ra,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Henry Cow,
Simply Red,
Yusef Lateef,
The Durutti Column,
Newcleus,
Donny Hathaway,
The Moody Blues,
The Sound,
Youth Brigade,
The Tremeloes,
The Smoke,
Royal Trux,
The Zeros,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
John Coltrane,
Marine Girls,
Albert Ayler,
The American Breed,
Peter and Kerry,
Piero Umiliani,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.