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 Mauritius and from Glasgow.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Hasil Adkins to the crunk 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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jawbox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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 Walker Brothers,
Black Sheep,
Fat Boys,
Big Daddy Kane,
Don Cherry,
The Monks,
Pussy Galore,
Steve Hackett,
Camouflage,
The Cure,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Stereo Dub,
the Normal,
Schoolly D,
Tears for Fears,
Bad Manners,
Johnny Clarke,
Trumans Water,
Porter Ricks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Golliwogs,
Letta Mbulu,
Severed Heads,
Banda Bassotti,
Mad Mike,
Funky Four + One,
Sun City Girls,
The Gladiators,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The American Breed,
Swell Maps,
KRS-One,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Grass Roots,
Blancmange,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lou Reed,
Mission of Burma,
Pierre Henry,
Carl Craig,
David Axelrod,
Chris & Cosey,
the Slits,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jerry's Kids,
Rhythm & Sound,
F. McDonald,
Whodini,
The Mojo Men,
Brand Nubian,
Ronan,
Anakelly,
R.M.O.,
Spoonie Gee,
Icehouse,
Michelle Simonal,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.