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 Uruguay and from Tehran.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Average White Band to the grunge 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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every In Retrospect record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Vladislav Delay,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Aaron Thompson,
Porter Ricks,
Gabor Szabo,
The Buckinghams,
Scratch Acid,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sun City Girls,
Maleditus Sound,
Gong,
Animal Collective,
Stockholm Monsters,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
FM Einheit,
Scientists,
Nick Fraelich,
Qualms,
Von Mondo,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kool Moe Dee,
Simply Red,
The Saints,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Mojo Men,
Q and Not U,
Moby Grape,
Skriet,
David Bowie,
Neil Young,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Spandau Ballet,
Soul II Soul,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sight & Sound,
Symarip,
Skaos,
Sex Pistols,
Wasted Youth,
The Busters,
The Angels of Light,
Suburban Knight,
Man Parrish,
D'Angelo,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Red Krayola,
June of 44,
Glenn Branca,
Roger Hodgson,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jacques Brel,
Piero Umiliani,
Derrick May,
Darondo,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Panda Bear,
Loose Ends,
ABBA,
Sugar Minott,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.