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 Tonga and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 oboe 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 Sound Behaviour to the grunge 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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All Heaven 17 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Arab on Radar,
Man Parrish,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Hot Snakes,
Toni Rubio,
Whodini,
The Pretty Things,
The Young Rascals,
Motorama,
Aaron Thompson,
Gichy Dan,
Goldenarms,
Stereo Dub,
Bobby Womack,
The Wake,
The Busters,
Drive Like Jehu,
Deadbeat,
Yazoo,
Eden Ahbez,
Chrome,
Fat Boys,
Barbara Tucker,
The Shadows of Knight,
Nirvana,
Cybotron,
Wire,
Half Japanese,
Procol Harum,
Saccharine Trust,
The Golliwogs,
Quando Quango,
48th St. Collective,
The Slackers,
Harry Pussy,
Skriet,
China Crisis,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lalann,
Pylon,
The Moleskins,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Eric B and Rakim,
Matthew Bourne,
Young Marble Giants,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Walker Brothers,
X-101,
Scion,
Dennis Brown,
Aural Exciters,
Slave,
Sun City Girls,
Mark Hollis,
Bad Manners,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.