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 Ghana and from Taipei.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 snare 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 Los Fastidios to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Doors. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
Scan 7,
The Modern Lovers,
Unrelated Segments,
Severed Heads,
the Slits,
Rod Modell,
Anthony Braxton,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Velvet Underground,
Lou Christie,
CMW,
Fluxion,
Nick Fraelich,
The Searchers,
Pantaleimon,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Loose Ends,
Marvin Gaye,
The Music Machine,
John Coltrane,
Suicide,
The Gladiators,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Q65,
Dark Day,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lalann,
Warsaw,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Half Japanese,
The Cowsills,
The Last Poets,
Fugazi,
The Smoke,
Scratch Acid,
Avey Tare,
Sixth Finger,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Skarface,
Rosa Yemen,
Pole,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lalo Schifrin,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pantytec,
Altered Images,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Gun Club,
Tropical Tobacco,
Radiopuhelimet,
T. Rex,
New York Dolls,
The American Breed,
Index,
Eli Mardock,
Kenny Larkin,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.