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 Senegal and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Divine Comedy to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
The Barracudas,
Scratch Acid,
Peter and Kerry,
Y Pants,
Stiv Bators,
The Smoke,
Urselle,
Pere Ubu,
The Associates,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fugazi,
The Grass Roots,
The Invisible,
Crispy Ambulance,
Chrome,
The Techniques,
Joyce Sims,
Suicide,
Matthew Bourne,
Funkadelic,
The Index,
Maleditus Sound,
Make Up,
The Trojans,
Bob Dylan,
Minnie Riperton,
Ice-T,
Electric Prunes,
Adolescents,
MDC,
Grandmaster Flash,
The J.B.'s,
Chris Corsano,
The Offenders,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Dual Sessions,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Howard Jones,
Delta 5,
EPMD,
Nik Kershaw,
Letta Mbulu,
Rapeman,
Magma,
Scott Walker,
Gong,
The Doobie Brothers,
John Lydon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Alison Limerick,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Fuzztones,
Newcleus,
Arab on Radar,
Sam Rivers,
Dead Boys,
Boredoms,
Blossom Toes,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.