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 Botswana and from Taipei.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Stockholm.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Saints to the punk 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mary Jane Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
The Gun Club,
Au Pairs,
Rakim,
Spoonie Gee,
8 Eyed Spy,
Isaac Hayes,
Arthur Verocai,
Bauhaus,
Deakin,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Yellowson,
Wally Richardson,
Maurizio,
R.M.O.,
Sam Rivers,
Pole,
Tom Boy,
Outsiders,
Ken Boothe,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jandek,
John Lydon,
Howard Jones,
New Order,
Arcadia,
The Fire Engines,
FM Einheit,
Mad Mike,
Lindisfarne,
Aural Exciters,
Lower 48,
Bill Near,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pere Ubu,
Sugar Minott,
Loose Ends,
Young Marble Giants,
Reagan Youth,
Barclay James Harvest,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sun City Girls,
Jacob Miller,
EPMD,
Pulsallama,
June Days,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Deadbeat,
Vainqueur,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Offenders,
ABC,
Byron Stingily,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Duran Duran,
Bob Dylan,
Bad Manners,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Hashim,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.