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 Saudi Arabia and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Dennis Brown to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Youth Brigade. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
The Cure,
The Stooges,
Tom Boy,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Radio Birdman,
Danielle Patucci,
Scrapy,
Ossler,
Newcleus,
Index,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Steve Hackett,
June of 44,
Sound Behaviour,
The Alarm Clocks,
Livin' Joy,
Gang Green,
Wings,
Pere Ubu,
Black Sheep,
Magazine,
Moss Icon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fat Boys,
Jacob Miller,
Echospace,
Man Parrish,
Letta Mbulu,
Fugazi,
The Motions,
The Neon Judgement,
John Coltrane,
Urselle,
Arcadia,
The Young Rascals,
Excepter,
The Busters,
The Detroit Cobras,
Young Marble Giants,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Slits,
Hashim,
Altered Images,
Surgeon,
Radiopuhelimet,
Minny Pops,
Marmalade,
Matthew Bourne,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Leonard Cohen,
Joey Negro,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Slits,
Avey Tare,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pulsallama,
48th St. Collective,
Ken Boothe,
Rotary Connection,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.