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 Cyprus and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Taipei.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 John Coltrane to the grunge 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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bronski Beat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Country Teasers,
Dead Boys,
Smog,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
David Bowie,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Beasts of Bourbon,
Byron Stingily,
Kool Moe Dee,
Banda Bassotti,
Q and Not U,
Jeru the Damaja,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Glenn Branca,
Colin Newman,
The Residents,
Jeff Mills,
The Skatalites,
DNA,
Throbbing Gristle,
Model 500,
U.S. Maple,
The Motions,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sällskapet,
Tres Demented,
Zapp,
Circle Jerks,
Toni Rubio,
The Kinks,
FM Einheit,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Delta 5,
Malaria!,
Johnny Osbourne,
MC5,
The Slackers,
Pantytec,
The Move,
Cecil Taylor,
Charles Mingus,
Spandau Ballet,
Glambeats Corp.,
Popol Vuh,
Index,
Roy Ayers,
Franke,
Con Funk Shun,
X-101,
Sparks,
Avey Tare,
Depeche Mode,
Scrapy,
Al Stewart,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Fall,
Maleditus Sound,
The Sound,
The Techniques,
Warsaw,
Aswad,
Loose Ends,
Bronski Beat,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.