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 Guinea-Bissau and from Bremen.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Selecter. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Chocolate Watch Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Qualms,
Mr. Review,
Ronan,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sound Behaviour,
Robert Görl,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Thee Headcoats,
Juan Atkins,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
Crime,
Black Moon,
The Associates,
Second Layer,
Unwound,
Ash Ra Tempel,
John Foxx,
Boredoms,
Crispy Ambulance,
Au Pairs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Soft Cell,
Freddie Wadling,
Matthew Bourne,
Pylon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Doobie Brothers,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Bar-Kays,
The Stooges,
Oblivians,
Skriet,
Babytalk,
Groovy Waters,
The Durutti Column,
Laurel Aitken,
Bluetip,
MC5,
Aloha Tigers,
Pierre Henry,
Rosa Yemen,
Maleditus Sound,
Gong,
Joensuu 1685,
Marvin Gaye,
The Knickerbockers,
Matthew Halsall,
Von Mondo,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jerry's Kids,
Pagans,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pussy Galore,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Tom Boy,
Mo-Dettes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Human League,
The Mojo Men,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.