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 Lithuania and from Sao Paulo.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 arpeggiator 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 Wally Richardson to the dance 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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 rhodes and a sitar 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 chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Smoke,
Tim Buckley,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Searchers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Easy Going,
Peter and Kerry,
Ten City,
Rotary Connection,
Funky Four + One,
Lalann,
Sister Nancy,
Scan 7,
Fat Boys,
Sarah Menescal,
Supertramp,
Nico,
Simply Red,
New York Dolls,
Model 500,
The Fortunes,
The Modern Lovers,
Country Teasers,
Laurel Aitken,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Patti Smith,
Pylon,
The Beau Brummels,
Half Japanese,
Neu!,
Johnny Clarke,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Albert Ayler,
Electric Prunes,
Massinfluence,
Robert Wyatt,
Johnny Osbourne,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Alphaville,
Joensuu 1685,
Rekid,
Stereo Dub,
Gong,
The Raincoats,
Junior Murvin,
Lebanon Hanover,
Black Bananas,
Moebius,
The Mummies,
Audionom,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Khruangbin,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gerry Rafferty,
Chris Corsano,
Outsiders,
Amon Düül II,
Pere Ubu,
Minutemen,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.