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 Sri Lanka and from Columbus.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Metal Thangz to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Age Steppers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
John Cale,
Rekid,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Pop Group,
Danielle Patucci,
Stockholm Monsters,
Trumans Water,
Bobby Sherman,
Niagra,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Monks,
The Durutti Column,
Warren Ellis,
Index,
Soul Sonic Force,
Robert Hood,
The Knickerbockers,
Nik Kershaw,
Ossler,
Peter and Kerry,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scan 7,
The Moleskins,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ronnie Foster,
Swell Maps,
Matthew Bourne,
Make Up,
Judy Mowatt,
Connie Case,
Los Fastidios,
Terry Callier,
Nation of Ulysses,
Depeche Mode,
Roxette,
Darondo,
Crime,
Deakin,
Technova,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
OOIOO,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Half Japanese,
Tubeway Army,
Sandy B,
Funkadelic,
Tomorrow,
The Buckinghams,
The Tremeloes,
Althea and Donna,
Wolf Eyes,
Model 500,
The Selecter,
Suicide,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Au Pairs,
Janne Schatter,
Black Flag,
The Music Machine,
Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix.
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.