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 Bangladesh and from Seoul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the dance 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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Evens,
Gang Green,
The New Christs,
The Birthday Party,
Quantec,
Marmalade,
Alphaville,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mad Mike,
A Certain Ratio,
The Fire Engines,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Electric Prunes,
Absolute Body Control,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Oblivians,
Minor Threat,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Don Cherry,
Lindisfarne,
Cecil Taylor,
Banda Bassotti,
Unwound,
The Techniques,
Chris & Cosey,
Sonny Sharrock,
ABBA,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Little Man,
Ludus,
Sandy B,
The Smoke,
Terrestrial Tones,
Roxy Music,
Fear,
Public Image Ltd.,
Glambeats Corp.,
Terry Callier,
Althea and Donna,
Ituana,
Scott Walker,
Aaron Thompson,
June Days,
Sight & Sound,
Warsaw,
Black Pus,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Smiths,
Jerry's Kids,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Niagra,
JFA,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kenny Larkin,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Blake Baxter,
Bill Wells,
Dennis Brown,
Radio Birdman,
Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode.
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.