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 Peru and from Tokyo.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Magazine to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors 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 an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers Ubiquity record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Intrusion,
Nico,
Amon Düül,
Blossom Toes,
Byron Stingily,
Derrick Morgan,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Nick Fraelich,
Public Enemy,
Los Fastidios,
Cymande,
The Misunderstood,
Nik Kershaw,
Massinfluence,
Rotary Connection,
Mars,
Deadbeat,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Index,
Motorama,
Roger Hodgson,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Association,
Ice-T,
Con Funk Shun,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Nils Olav,
Fat Boys,
Joe Finger,
Scrapy,
Babytalk,
John Coltrane,
Model 500,
10cc,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
New Order,
Wasted Youth,
Tim Buckley,
Junior Murvin,
Drive Like Jehu,
Half Japanese,
Hoover,
Barbara Tucker,
Aaron Thompson,
the Normal,
Barrington Levy,
Arab on Radar,
Swans,
Marc Almond,
Johnny Clarke,
The Angels of Light,
Lucky Dragons,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mary Jane Girls,
Flash Fearless,
Reagan Youth,
Sun City Girls,
The Fire Engines,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.