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 Malta and from Manila.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Terrestrial Tones to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joensuu 1685 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
The Grass Roots,
Flipper,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Nirvana,
Zero Boys,
The Dave Clark Five,
Excepter,
Michelle Simonal,
Gerry Rafferty,
Crime,
Alison Limerick,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Mandrill,
Steve Hackett,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Hardrive,
Anakelly,
Kayak,
Liliput,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pylon,
Peter and Kerry,
Brass Construction,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Inner City,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Birthday Party,
Prince Buster,
The Standells,
New Order,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bill Near,
Funky Four + One,
David Bowie,
Reuben Wilson,
Judy Mowatt,
Joe Finger,
Avey Tare,
Graham Central Station,
Moebius,
Johnny Osbourne,
LL Cool J,
Arthur Verocai,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pole,
Brothers Johnson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Q65,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Visage,
Glambeats Corp.,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Young Rascals,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kurtis Blow,
Pantytec,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Monochrome Set,
The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers.
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.