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 Papua New Guinea and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 Buzzcocks to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Lungfish,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Man Parrish,
48th St. Collective,
Yellowson,
Bronski Beat,
Pere Ubu,
U.S. Maple,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Traffic Nightmare,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Blues Magoos,
Arcadia,
ABBA,
The Vogues,
L. Decosne,
Dave Gahan,
The Modern Lovers,
Terry Callier,
Section 25,
Carl Craig,
Tres Demented,
The Selecter,
Nirvana,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ice-T,
Amon Düül,
Fluxion,
Erykah Badu,
Jawbox,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Cowsills,
Lindisfarne,
Joy Division,
Letta Mbulu,
The Stooges,
The Tremeloes,
Robert Hood,
Piero Umiliani,
Technova,
Bad Manners,
Kayak,
Metal Thangz,
Charles Mingus,
Bob Dylan,
Sun Ra,
Crime,
Brothers Johnson,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jacques Brel,
Japan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Fugs,
Quadrant,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Amon Düül II,
Janne Schatter,
Schoolly D,
June of 44,
Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48.
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.