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 Brunei and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Dead Boys to the crunk 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 The Trojans. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Vainqueur,
Sound Behaviour,
Robert Wyatt,
Infiniti,
Eve St. Jones,
Joy Division,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Wings,
Rakim,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bob Dylan,
The Doobie Brothers,
Royal Trux,
Sly & The Family Stone,
John Coltrane,
Black Sheep,
Masters at Work,
James White and The Blacks,
Clear Light,
Radiohead,
Suicide,
The Beau Brummels,
Junior Murvin,
The Techniques,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Monks,
Monks,
This Heat,
The Last Poets,
Ice-T,
Lucky Dragons,
The Golliwogs,
the Human League,
AZ,
Rotary Connection,
a-ha,
The Slits,
The Move,
Lindisfarne,
The Invisible,
Bad Manners,
The Fugs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sällskapet,
Intrusion,
Letta Mbulu,
Theoretical Girls,
Nico,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Fire Engines,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
B.T. Express,
Young Marble Giants,
The Names,
T. Rex,
Lakeside,
Bobby Sherman,
Leonard Cohen,
Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins.
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.