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 Tanzania and from Sao Paulo.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Black Flag to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echospace,
James White and The Blacks,
Country Teasers,
Crash Course in Science,
Darondo,
FM Einheit,
T.S.O.L.,
Freddie Wadling,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Velvet Underground,
Young Marble Giants,
The Doobie Brothers,
Franke,
48th St. Collective,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Blackbyrds,
Japan,
Frankie Knuckles,
Index,
Intrusion,
Mr. Review,
Alice Coltrane,
Oblivians,
The Offenders,
Accadde A,
Idris Muhammad,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ice-T,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Toasters,
The Fuzztones,
Tres Demented,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Reuben Wilson,
The Victims,
Rufus Thomas,
The Skatalites,
Kenny Larkin,
The Dirtbombs,
MDC,
Tropical Tobacco,
One Last Wish,
The Motions,
Rapeman,
Boredoms,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Sonics,
Stiv Bators,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Arthur Verocai,
Infiniti,
Vainqueur,
Porter Ricks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Cheater Slicks,
Spandau Ballet,
Dave Gahan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Main Source,
Sandy B,
Matthew Bourne,
Johnny Osbourne,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.