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 Senegal and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 guitar 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 Sandy B to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Newcleus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Banda Bassotti,
Guru Guru,
Television,
Model 500,
Donny Hathaway,
Tommy Roe,
the Slits,
Jimmy McGriff,
Symarip,
Rufus Thomas,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bronski Beat,
The Angels of Light,
Deakin,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ituana,
Pagans,
Eric Dolphy,
Angry Samoans,
Trumans Water,
David Bowie,
The Gladiators,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Minutemen,
The Walker Brothers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Martian,
Mark Hollis,
Lyres,
Masters at Work,
Tres Demented,
The Stooges,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Whodini,
New York Dolls,
The Slackers,
Jacob Miller,
cv313,
June of 44,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jeff Lynne,
Steve Hackett,
The Residents,
The Standells,
T.S.O.L.,
Reagan Youth,
48th St. Collective,
Vladislav Delay,
The Fuzztones,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Von Mondo,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Zero Boys,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
E-Dancer,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Black Sheep,
Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc..
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.