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 Armenia and from Edmonton.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bang On A Can to the funk 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a LL Cool J record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Count Five,
Youth Brigade,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Martian,
Marc Almond,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rites of Spring,
Sonic Youth,
Dennis Brown,
A Certain Ratio,
Throbbing Gristle,
Los Fastidios,
Shoche,
Andrew Hill,
Skriet,
Warren Ellis,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Grandmaster Flash,
Babytalk,
Essential Logic,
Morten Harket,
Terrestrial Tones,
Reuben Wilson,
Tomorrow,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Siglo XX,
Bluetip,
Banda Bassotti,
The Happenings,
Lungfish,
Minor Threat,
Piero Umiliani,
Technova,
Lebanon Hanover,
David Bowie,
Patti Smith,
Lou Reed,
the Slits,
The Electric Prunes,
Skarface,
Soul II Soul,
The Move,
Bootsy Collins,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Wire,
June Days,
Joe Finger,
10cc,
Matthew Bourne,
Interpol,
Bad Manners,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
48th St. Collective,
Aaron Thompson,
Graham Central Station,
The Sonics,
the Swans,
Don Cherry,
The Saints,
the Human League,
Altered Images,
Ludus,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
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.