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 Rwanda and from Columbus.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Doors to the techno 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 Robert Görl. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Don Cherry,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Henry Cow,
World's Most,
Connie Case,
The Selecter,
Slick Rick,
Grey Daturas,
Faraquet,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Qualms,
Black Moon,
Gichy Dan,
Goldenarms,
Cecil Taylor,
The American Breed,
Colin Newman,
Barbara Tucker,
Kas Product,
Delta 5,
Susan Cadogan,
the Slits,
Camberwell Now,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Victims,
Sexual Harrassment,
Iggy Pop,
Hasil Adkins,
Juan Atkins,
UT,
Archie Shepp,
The J.B.'s,
Infiniti,
Funky Four + One,
Peter & Gordon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Smog,
Suicide,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Inner City,
Anthony Braxton,
The Golliwogs,
Grauzone,
Tim Buckley,
In Retrospect,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Franke,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
FM Einheit,
The Last Poets,
Alice Coltrane,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Johnny Clarke,
Aural Exciters,
Rod Modell,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.