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 Jordan and from Paris.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 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 Bobby Womack to the dance 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 The Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Star Department,
David Axelrod,
Brand Nubian,
Tubeway Army,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Kas Product,
Glenn Branca,
The Names,
Schoolly D,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Tim Buckley,
Second Layer,
Cameo,
Bang On A Can,
Tears for Fears,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Dead C,
Avey Tare,
The Residents,
Quadrant,
Dead Boys,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Funkadelic,
Soft Machine,
John Coltrane,
Prince Buster,
Radiohead,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
X-102,
Marcia Griffiths,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rites of Spring,
Flash Fearless,
The Offenders,
Grauzone,
The Last Poets,
The Modern Lovers,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dave Gahan,
the Fania All-Stars,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Human League,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Magazine,
Ken Boothe,
Rhythm & Sound,
D'Angelo,
The Five Americans,
Silicon Teens,
The Cure,
The Alarm Clocks,
MDC,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Marmalade,
The Pretty Things,
Index,
The Slits,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Delta 5,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.