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 Sierra Leone and from Bologna.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Darondo to the funk 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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog 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?
Scan 7,
Gil Scott Heron,
Agitation Free,
OOIOO,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cheater Slicks,
kango's stein massive,
Swell Maps,
Sight & Sound,
E-Dancer,
Black Bananas,
Tres Demented,
Wasted Youth,
Pussy Galore,
Girls At Our Best!,
Derrick May,
Inner City,
The Angels of Light,
Lucky Dragons,
Johnny Clarke,
EPMD,
Barbara Tucker,
Erasure,
Von Mondo,
MDC,
CMW,
Bush Tetras,
Shoche,
Vladislav Delay,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Funkadelic,
Liliput,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Soft Cell,
Arab on Radar,
Patti Smith,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Loose Ends,
Camberwell Now,
Sonic Youth,
Al Stewart,
Dave Gahan,
Iggy Pop,
Porter Ricks,
Organ,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Leonard Cohen,
Carl Craig,
Smog,
The Red Krayola,
Fear,
Brick,
Livin' Joy,
Spandau Ballet,
Radio Birdman,
the Germs,
Radiohead,
Thompson Twins,
Stiv Bators,
Essential Logic,
Scientists,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.