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 Sierra Leone and from Sao Paulo.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Blues Magoos to the disco 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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Kevin Saunderson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonic Youth,
U.S. Maple,
Nirvana,
John Foxx,
Lalo Schifrin,
Crooked Eye,
Janne Schatter,
Boogie Down Productions,
Boredoms,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Skatalites,
The Cramps,
Parry Music,
Lee Hazlewood,
Audionom,
Ituana,
The Fall,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Techniques,
Harry Pussy,
Funkadelic,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Dave Gahan,
Marshall Jefferson,
10cc,
Charles Mingus,
Index,
Flash Fearless,
Gichy Dan,
Leonard Cohen,
Bronski Beat,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pantaleimon,
Mission of Burma,
Amon Düül,
Bush Tetras,
Cymande,
Guru Guru,
Jeff Mills,
Idris Muhammad,
Kurtis Blow,
Ornette Coleman,
The Trojans,
Brass Construction,
Surgeon,
Blossom Toes,
Marine Girls,
Wire,
Interpol,
Lou Reed,
Chrome,
Maurizio,
UT,
LL Cool J,
Echospace,
Peter and Kerry,
John Cale,
Lower 48,
Babytalk,
Ken Boothe,
Mark Hollis,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.