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 Sudan and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Jakarta.
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 clarinet 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 Maurizio to the rap 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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Marcia Griffiths,
Andrew Hill,
Joe Finger,
The Kinks,
The Barracudas,
Buzzcocks,
The Zeros,
Lou Christie,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Motorama,
Deadbeat,
Sun City Girls,
The Index,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bluetip,
Schoolly D,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sandy B,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Neon Judgement,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Mad Mike,
Michelle Simonal,
Cymande,
The Toasters,
Max Romeo,
Crash Course in Science,
Malaria!,
Fugazi,
Average White Band,
Gabor Szabo,
Rufus Thomas,
Skriet,
The Trojans,
Barry Ungar,
The American Breed,
D'Angelo,
Piero Umiliani,
Desert Stars,
Dorothy Ashby,
Unwound,
Steve Hackett,
Erasure,
Section 25,
In Retrospect,
Urselle,
Joey Negro,
Brick,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Moss Icon,
Soft Cell,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Gun Club,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.