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 Australia and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
DJ Sneak,
The Smiths,
Alison Limerick,
Desert Stars,
A Certain Ratio,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bill Wells,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rod Modell,
Aural Exciters,
Rapeman,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
June of 44,
Aloha Tigers,
Bobby Byrd,
The Gap Band,
Mr. Review,
Lakeside,
Nick Fraelich,
Quando Quango,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Unrelated Segments,
Underground Resistance,
Gong,
8 Eyed Spy,
Idris Muhammad,
Trumans Water,
Interpol,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Blancmange,
K-Klass,
Carl Craig,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kurtis Blow,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Wake,
Barbara Tucker,
Pierre Henry,
The Stooges,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Television,
Blake Baxter,
Hashim,
Minor Threat,
10cc,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Blossom Toes,
Matthew Bourne,
KRS-One,
Symarip,
New York Dolls,
Jacques Brel,
Severed Heads,
Morten Harket,
The Tremeloes,
The Beau Brummels,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.