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 Indonesia and from Beijing.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 sitar 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 Outsiders to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Sugar Minott,
Absolute Body Control,
Cybotron,
Kurtis Blow,
Minny Pops,
Funkadelic,
Marvin Gaye,
Rhythm & Sound,
a-ha,
Darondo,
Zapp,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lakeside,
The Grass Roots,
Barry Ungar,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Chrome,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Camberwell Now,
Black Sheep,
Grauzone,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Faraquet,
Rakim,
Derrick Morgan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Half Japanese,
Faust,
Black Bananas,
Joensuu 1685,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Victims,
Harry Pussy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ice-T,
The Blackbyrds,
Unwound,
Camouflage,
Second Layer,
Dawn Penn,
Ronnie Foster,
Patti Smith,
Blossom Toes,
Pere Ubu,
Dead Boys,
Minor Threat,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Radiohead,
The Durutti Column,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Traffic Nightmare,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Juan Atkins,
Animal Collective,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.