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 Barbados and from Manchester.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Excepter to the crunk 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 The Stooges. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Public Enemy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Dead Boys,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Robert Görl,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Normal,
Agitation Free,
The Slackers,
Panda Bear,
Eurythmics,
Andrew Hill,
Marcia Griffiths,
Subhumans,
Stiv Bators,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sight & Sound,
Television,
Motorama,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lou Christie,
Silicon Teens,
Oblivians,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ohio Players,
Adolescents,
Livin' Joy,
Bob Dylan,
Theoretical Girls,
Lucky Dragons,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Infiniti,
Desert Stars,
Khruangbin,
The Fire Engines,
Reagan Youth,
48th St. Collective,
Soul II Soul,
Donald Byrd,
The Remains,
Arcadia,
Thompson Twins,
EPMD,
Fad Gadget,
Angry Samoans,
David McCallum,
Au Pairs,
Skarface,
Newcleus,
Robert Wyatt,
John Lydon,
Sister Nancy,
Fugazi,
The Monochrome Set,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Martian,
Terry Callier,
Pantytec,
Lee Hazlewood,
Moebius,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.