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 Samoa and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Babytalk to the rock 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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Sugar Minott,
CMW,
Circle Jerks,
Chris Corsano,
Bad Manners,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nick Fraelich,
Idris Muhammad,
Danielle Patucci,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Stetsasonic,
MC5,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Names,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Severed Heads,
Theoretical Girls,
Q65,
Aural Exciters,
Tom Boy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Flesh Eaters,
Warsaw,
Grey Daturas,
Skriet,
Sun Ra,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Glambeats Corp.,
Franke,
The J.B.'s,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fatback Band,
Mary Jane Girls,
Stiv Bators,
Kurtis Blow,
Groovy Waters,
The Litter,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Eli Mardock,
Joyce Sims,
Boz Scaggs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fluxion,
Althea and Donna,
The Moleskins,
The Remains,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Avey Tare,
Rotary Connection,
Outsiders,
Josef K,
Susan Cadogan,
David McCallum,
Moby Grape,
Agent Orange,
Godley & Creme,
The Music Machine,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.