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 Bahrain and from Portland.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Nik Kershaw to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Happenings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
The Grass Roots,
Malaria!,
Franke,
The Dave Clark Five,
Motorama,
The Neon Judgement,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Negative Approach,
the Swans,
The United States of America,
Jacob Miller,
The Birthday Party,
Nico,
Eli Mardock,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wolf Eyes,
Flamin' Groovies,
Q and Not U,
Barbara Tucker,
Rosa Yemen,
Saccharine Trust,
Monolake,
Harmonia,
R.M.O.,
Infiniti,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ultravox,
Make Up,
Nils Olav,
The Seeds,
The Dead C,
T.S.O.L.,
World's Most,
T. Rex,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
David McCallum,
Jeff Lynne,
Jesper Dahlback,
Arab on Radar,
Blancmange,
Amon Düül,
Lightning Bolt,
The Alarm Clocks,
Technova,
Vainqueur,
Avey Tare,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Flesh Eaters,
Radio Birdman,
The Shadows of Knight,
Skaos,
Wally Richardson,
Alton Ellis,
Al Stewart,
Chrome,
Essential Logic,
Ornette Coleman,
The Searchers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Buzzcocks,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.