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 Azerbaijan and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Slackers to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Harmonia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Names record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
The Gories,
OOIOO,
The Detroit Cobras,
FM Einheit,
The Slits,
Donald Byrd,
Graham Central Station,
Delon & Dalcan,
David Bowie,
Roxette,
Procol Harum,
Donny Hathaway,
Moss Icon,
Bluetip,
Fad Gadget,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Arthur Verocai,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Subhumans,
DJ Style,
Fatback Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Funkadelic,
Tim Buckley,
Qualms,
UT,
Lyres,
Sister Nancy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Marcia Griffiths,
LL Cool J,
Maurizio,
Suburban Knight,
Amon Düül,
Jeff Mills,
Q and Not U,
Minor Threat,
China Crisis,
Cluster,
Yaz,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Star Department,
Hashim,
Marvin Gaye,
Erasure,
Neu!,
Simply Red,
Minny Pops,
The Sound,
Arab on Radar,
Bang On A Can,
Yusef Lateef,
Thompson Twins,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Joe Finger,
The Doors,
Colin Newman,
Warsaw,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.