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 Jordan and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Neu! to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Pole,
Young Marble Giants,
Todd Terry,
Cymande,
June Days,
Motorama,
Pantytec,
The Fire Engines,
Arab on Radar,
Dead Boys,
Slick Rick,
Bob Dylan,
X-Ray Spex,
The Doors,
Oneida,
The Divine Comedy,
Bad Manners,
Clear Light,
Kaleidoscope,
Spoonie Gee,
The Associates,
Sarah Menescal,
Outsiders,
Make Up,
David Bowie,
Ludus,
Tom Boy,
The Victims,
Nirvana,
Howard Jones,
The Alarm Clocks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Barry Ungar,
Lungfish,
Slave,
New Order,
Lakeside,
The Smiths,
Bill Wells,
KRS-One,
Faust,
The Techniques,
Grandmaster Flash,
Mark Hollis,
Moss Icon,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Magazine,
U.S. Maple,
These Immortal Souls,
Black Sheep,
Shuggie Otis,
Lou Christie,
Jawbox,
Scratch Acid,
Minutemen,
Jandek,
Chrome,
Tim Buckley,
Accadde A,
Trumans Water,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.