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 Russia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 linndrum 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 Monks to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All Main Source tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Joe & The Fish,
Freddie Wadling,
Hardrive,
Alice Coltrane,
Sugar Minott,
Fluxion,
Magma,
Ludus,
Alison Limerick,
Organ,
LL Cool J,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Residents,
Johnny Osbourne,
Brass Construction,
The Leaves,
Darondo,
Tropical Tobacco,
PIL,
Robert Hood,
Don Cherry,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Brick,
Wire,
Television Personalities,
The Searchers,
Nils Olav,
Minnie Riperton,
Sällskapet,
Sight & Sound,
Brand Nubian,
The Moleskins,
Lou Reed,
Au Pairs,
Roxette,
Tommy Roe,
Cheater Slicks,
Sun Ra,
The Gladiators,
Qualms,
Yellowson,
Byron Stingily,
Angry Samoans,
The Blues Magoos,
Man Parrish,
Barrington Levy,
Fela Kuti,
Donald Byrd,
Lee Hazlewood,
Wasted Youth,
Kevin Saunderson,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Monks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Blossom Toes,
The Flesh Eaters,
New Age Steppers,
Chris Corsano,
Inner City,
The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy.
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.