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 France and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 spring reverb 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 Ultra Naté to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Germs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Eric Copeland,
Slave,
Joy Division,
Shoche,
Nils Olav,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Magazine,
Public Enemy,
Panda Bear,
Heaven 17,
the Slits,
Sandy B,
Nas,
Michelle Simonal,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Detroit Cobras,
Charles Mingus,
The Fugs,
Grey Daturas,
New York Dolls,
Yusef Lateef,
Johnny Clarke,
Marvin Gaye,
Television Personalities,
Newcleus,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
D'Angelo,
Joey Negro,
Eden Ahbez,
L. Decosne,
Average White Band,
Ken Boothe,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bill Near,
Avey Tare,
Camberwell Now,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Grauzone,
Terry Callier,
Maleditus Sound,
Silicon Teens,
Parry Music,
Ultravox,
The Vogues,
Gang of Four,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
June Days,
The Associates,
Circle Jerks,
Glambeats Corp.,
PIL,
The Slits,
Patti Smith,
Los Fastidios,
Suicide,
Second Layer,
Excepter,
Lungfish,
These Immortal Souls,
B.T. Express,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.