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 Solomon Islands and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Columbus.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Lindisfarne to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Symarip,
Deakin,
Soulsonic Force,
Ossler,
Japan,
Sixth Finger,
Interpol,
Con Funk Shun,
The Smoke,
Sight & Sound,
Goldenarms,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Archie Shepp,
The Fuzztones,
Pulsallama,
Black Moon,
Television Personalities,
The Doors,
The Slits,
F. McDonald,
Half Japanese,
The Fugs,
Sun City Girls,
Sexual Harrassment,
China Crisis,
Yaz,
Max Romeo,
MC5,
Heaven 17,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Swans,
Junior Murvin,
Skaos,
Blake Baxter,
The Invisible,
The Sound,
Q and Not U,
June Days,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Parry Music,
Second Layer,
Echospace,
The Alarm Clocks,
Shuggie Otis,
Ludus,
Basic Channel,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Tres Demented,
Henry Cow,
Inner City,
Tubeway Army,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Young Marble Giants,
Deepchord,
Donald Byrd,
Gerry Rafferty,
Derrick Morgan,
Niagra,
Susan Cadogan,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Babytalk,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.