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 Spain and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Erasure to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yusef Lateef record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Index,
The Martian,
Charles Mingus,
Brand Nubian,
Gabor Szabo,
Aloha Tigers,
Magazine,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Suicide,
Grauzone,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Outsiders,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Curtis Mayfield,
Chrome,
Underground Resistance,
Joe Smooth,
The Monochrome Set,
Sam Rivers,
The Fortunes,
The Modern Lovers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tropical Tobacco,
Graham Central Station,
The Slits,
Blossom Toes,
Sun City Girls,
Average White Band,
the Soft Cell,
Amazonics,
Black Pus,
The American Breed,
Idris Muhammad,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Tom Boy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Neon Judgement,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Normal,
Camberwell Now,
Can,
Supertramp,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Royal Trux,
Matthew Bourne,
Harpers Bizarre,
The New Christs,
Mars,
Intrusion,
Erykah Badu,
H. Thieme,
Accadde A,
Niagra,
Maurizio,
Scion,
Crime,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.