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 Italy and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Heaven 17 to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Technova. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Sonics 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Bobby Byrd,
Interpol,
Black Pus,
Pylon,
Mad Mike,
AZ,
The Gladiators,
Lower 48,
Neu!,
Kevin Saunderson,
Laurel Aitken,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
the Normal,
Thee Headcoats,
Moss Icon,
The Saints,
Robert Wyatt,
Circle Jerks,
Avey Tare,
The Buckinghams,
Mantronix,
Icehouse,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Arthur Verocai,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pagans,
Davy DMX,
KRS-One,
Alice Coltrane,
Oblivians,
Kenny Larkin,
David Bowie,
The Slits,
Derrick May,
The Pop Group,
Lyres,
Gang Gang Dance,
Nirvana,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Young Marble Giants,
Yazoo,
Juan Atkins,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Offenders,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Star Department,
Section 25,
Eli Mardock,
Peter & Gordon,
Crooked Eye,
kango's stein massive,
Sun Ra,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Alison Limerick,
The Vogues,
Dark Day,
Anakelly,
Mark Hollis,
The Skatalites,
Gang Starr,
Fatback Band,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart.
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.