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 Swaziland and from Salvador.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Durutti Column to the grunge 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pere Ubu,
the Association,
Procol Harum,
The Gap Band,
Erykah Badu,
Be Bop Deluxe,
These Immortal Souls,
The Gun Club,
Scratch Acid,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Big Daddy Kane,
Amon Düül,
Freddie Wadling,
Quantec,
Dark Day,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Camberwell Now,
Grey Daturas,
The Flesh Eaters,
Yusef Lateef,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Archie Shepp,
Andrew Hill,
Nas,
Janne Schatter,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Glenn Branca,
The Blackbyrds,
Vladislav Delay,
Sällskapet,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
DJ Style,
Bizarre Inc.,
Tom Boy,
Scrapy,
Delta 5,
The Black Dice,
Sex Pistols,
Technova,
Connie Case,
David McCallum,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Aloha Tigers,
World's Most,
H. Thieme,
Hot Snakes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Liliput,
The Golliwogs,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gong,
Quando Quango,
Black Moon,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Boogie Down Productions,
Loose Ends,
Depeche Mode,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.