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 Liberia and from Philadelphia.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Hong Kong.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Wally Richardson to the rock 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 The Gories. All the underground hits.
All MC5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nico record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
The Count Five,
Smog,
Silicon Teens,
Black Moon,
The Saints,
Khruangbin,
Tres Demented,
The Leaves,
Alton Ellis,
Rites of Spring,
The Mojo Men,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
A Certain Ratio,
Guru Guru,
Reagan Youth,
Scott Walker,
Pussy Galore,
MC5,
Carl Craig,
Depeche Mode,
H. Thieme,
DNA,
Electric Light Orchestra,
the Fania All-Stars,
JFA,
Desert Stars,
Radio Birdman,
Rosa Yemen,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pantaleimon,
Unrelated Segments,
Terrestrial Tones,
Susan Cadogan,
Barry Ungar,
Graham Central Station,
The Wake,
The Red Krayola,
Moss Icon,
Minnie Riperton,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Radiopuhelimet,
Motorama,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ossler,
Technova,
The Real Kids,
ABBA,
Peter and Kerry,
Isaac Hayes,
Ituana,
Eve St. Jones,
the Sonics,
These Immortal Souls,
B.T. Express,
X-101,
The Stooges,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Dawn Penn,
Bobby Sherman,
Junior Murvin,
Sparks,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.