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 Peru and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Outsiders to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skaos 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Shuggie Otis,
Cymande,
Pussy Galore,
Dave Gahan,
Flamin' Groovies,
Blancmange,
Young Marble Giants,
PIL,
China Crisis,
Tom Boy,
Eli Mardock,
The Slackers,
Adolescents,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sugar Minott,
Funky Four + One,
David Bowie,
Nirvana,
Electric Prunes,
Clear Light,
Tears for Fears,
Buzzcocks,
Porter Ricks,
The Durutti Column,
Urselle,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Scrapy,
New York Dolls,
Man Eating Sloth,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Cluster,
Chrome,
The Velvet Underground,
The United States of America,
Easy Going,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ken Boothe,
Howard Jones,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Offenders,
Swell Maps,
Brothers Johnson,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
John Cale,
The Beau Brummels,
Junior Murvin,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Colin Newman,
K-Klass,
The Doors,
Gang of Four,
June Days,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Fania All-Stars,
Slave,
Mars,
The Barracudas,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Red Krayola,
Graham Central Station,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.