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 Ecuador and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Reuben Wilson to the electroclash 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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Grass Roots,
The Golliwogs,
Ponytail,
In Retrospect,
Don Cherry,
Sam Rivers,
Black Flag,
Nas,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Peter and Kerry,
Eli Mardock,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gang Green,
Nirvana,
Bad Manners,
The Slackers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Livin' Joy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Avey Tare,
Slave,
Index,
Marcia Griffiths,
Faust,
Barclay James Harvest,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Los Fastidios,
Television,
The Modern Lovers,
Wolf Eyes,
Pantytec,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Fugs,
Chrome,
Loose Ends,
The Fall,
Bill Wells,
Easy Going,
Theoretical Girls,
Procol Harum,
Mo-Dettes,
Anthony Braxton,
The Invisible,
June Days,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bauhaus,
Bill Near,
Sun Ra,
Goldenarms,
Robert Görl,
the Germs,
T. Rex,
Cybotron,
Skriet,
The Electric Prunes,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Tears for Fears,
T.S.O.L.,
Cameo,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.