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 Micronesia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Slackers to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Roxy Music,
Wolf Eyes,
ABC,
Dark Day,
Eurythmics,
The Dave Clark Five,
Barclay James Harvest,
Niagra,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nik Kershaw,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Electric Prunes,
Jerry's Kids,
Hashim,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
These Immortal Souls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mr. Review,
Wally Richardson,
a-ha,
Sun Ra,
Throbbing Gristle,
Stockholm Monsters,
Warren Ellis,
Groovy Waters,
Gerry Rafferty,
Grauzone,
Lyres,
The Velvet Underground,
The Gap Band,
Scott Walker,
The Dead C,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Barbara Tucker,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gong,
The Sound,
Blossom Toes,
OOIOO,
Minny Pops,
Robert Görl,
Aaron Thompson,
Marshall Jefferson,
Iggy Pop,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Drexciya,
Pussy Galore,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pantytec,
Bluetip,
Schoolly D,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Neon Judgement,
Rosa Yemen,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Flesh Eaters,
CMW,
Neu!,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.