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 Equatorial Guinea and from Lyon.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Public Image Ltd. to the rap 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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne 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 grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Glenn Branca,
Lou Christie,
Boogie Down Productions,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Soft Cell,
the Germs,
Soul II Soul,
Reuben Wilson,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Slackers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bob Dylan,
Josef K,
Mad Mike,
Bang On A Can,
Parry Music,
Nirvana,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bluetip,
The Stooges,
Jeru the Damaja,
Dave Gahan,
Danielle Patucci,
Inner City,
Lou Reed,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Black Bananas,
The Doobie Brothers,
Saccharine Trust,
Johnny Clarke,
PIL,
Isaac Hayes,
Desert Stars,
The Last Poets,
John Holt,
Roxette,
Deakin,
Boredoms,
Sex Pistols,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Frankie Knuckles,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Scion,
The Standells,
The Alarm Clocks,
OOIOO,
Metal Thangz,
Carl Craig,
Minor Threat,
Underground Resistance,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Sonics,
Eric Dolphy,
Sarah Menescal,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Juan Atkins,
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.