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 Italy and from Toronto.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the funk 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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
The Litter,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Gang Green,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Popol Vuh,
Terrestrial Tones,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kenny Larkin,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Boz Scaggs,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Throbbing Gristle,
Godley & Creme,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
cv313,
Blake Baxter,
Grey Daturas,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Goldenarms,
R.M.O.,
Lungfish,
Sun Ra,
Wolf Eyes,
Aswad,
Hardrive,
Depeche Mode,
Jacques Brel,
Minutemen,
It's A Beautiful Day,
LL Cool J,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Swans,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Letta Mbulu,
The Star Department,
Wally Richardson,
Lower 48,
Blancmange,
Gang Starr,
The Monochrome Set,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Walker Brothers,
Trumans Water,
The Tremeloes,
KRS-One,
Electric Prunes,
Chrome,
Joy Division,
Fat Boys,
The Music Machine,
David Bowie,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Tim Buckley,
Scientists,
Joensuu 1685,
Pole,
Con Funk Shun,
The Moleskins,
Mad Mike,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.