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 Singapore and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Lucky Dragons to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Scrapy. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bronski Beat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
In Retrospect,
Nik Kershaw,
The Slits,
Bush Tetras,
Audionom,
Second Layer,
Susan Cadogan,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Standells,
Cheater Slicks,
Joe Finger,
The Remains,
Soul II Soul,
Lalann,
Mark Hollis,
Crispian St. Peters,
Barclay James Harvest,
Black Pus,
The Doobie Brothers,
Infiniti,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ultra Naté,
U.S. Maple,
Minny Pops,
DNA,
Whodini,
Nico,
Eurythmics,
The Victims,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Von Mondo,
Johnny Osbourne,
These Immortal Souls,
Blossom Toes,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Fortunes,
Pet Shop Boys,
Masters at Work,
Sound Behaviour,
Vainqueur,
Hardrive,
The Blues Magoos,
Theoretical Girls,
Agent Orange,
Sam Rivers,
the Soft Cell,
Depeche Mode,
Newcleus,
Derrick May,
Procol Harum,
Connie Case,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Drexciya,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ludus,
UT,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Glambeats Corp.,
Blancmange,
Saccharine Trust,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.