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 Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 linndrum 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 Adolescents 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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat 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 snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Visage,
Technova,
The Slackers,
The Stooges,
Hot Snakes,
Slick Rick,
Outsiders,
Warsaw,
Hasil Adkins,
Drexciya,
Nico,
Adolescents,
Freddie Wadling,
Nik Kershaw,
Sex Pistols,
Roger Hodgson,
Tommy Roe,
Silicon Teens,
Tears for Fears,
Yellowson,
Anakelly,
Maleditus Sound,
June of 44,
Ralphi Rosario,
John Cale,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kool Moe Dee,
Banda Bassotti,
Marmalade,
Marc Almond,
Delta 5,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Television,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Moss Icon,
Camberwell Now,
The Residents,
The Misunderstood,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Tomorrow,
The Slits,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mark Hollis,
the Sonics,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wire,
Warren Ellis,
Steve Hackett,
Harry Pussy,
Johnny Clarke,
Eve St. Jones,
Black Sheep,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Model 500,
The Buckinghams,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Roy Ayers,
Rites of Spring,
The Cowsills,
Bill Wells,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.